


Ardour & Lust

by Geist (GeistLoL)



Category: League of Legends
Genre: F/F, F/M, Multi, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-06
Updated: 2018-06-23
Packaged: 2019-03-28 00:33:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 23,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13892466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeistLoL/pseuds/Geist
Summary: A collection of short lemons & smut with the ultimate goal of writing a story for every (adult human) female character in League of Legends. Or as near as I can get. Basically a place to post my little writing drabbles.





	1. Introduction

**Hey all, Geist here.**

**Welcome to Ardour & Lust!**

**I've devised this little short story collection as a place to post many of my short lemon writing drabbles for the champions of League of Legends. The ultimate goal here is to write a short piece for every (adult human) female character in the game. Some'll be romantic and fairly tame, while others will be heavier on the smut. I don't write anything too out there really, but I'll post a little content warning for each chapter.**

**I have a tendency to have overly grand ideas for stories and subsequently, they never get made. So keeping it short should hopefully help.**

**I'll cross champions off once they're done.**

**The champions still on the table for this collection are:**

Ahri - Chapter 3

Akali - Chapter 2

Ashe

Caitlyn - Chapter 8

Diana

Elise

Eve

Fiora - Chapter 7

Irelia - Chapter 5

Janna

Jinx

Karma

Katarina - Chapter 6

Kayle

LeBlanc

Leona

Lissandra

Lux

Miss Fortune

Morgana

Nidalee

Quinn - Chapter 4

Riven - Chapter 6

Sejuani

Shyvana

Sivir

Sona

Soraka

Syndra

Vayne - Chapter 7

Vi

Xayah

Zyra

**I hope you enjoy reading my little exploration of the league's many ladies.**

**Also, for those interested, I'm starting to work on a sequel to 'The Height of Summer' featuring my favourite pair, Riven and Irelia.**

**Thanks to everyone who took the time to review one of my pieces. I read and appreciate them all.**

**Cheers,**

**Geist**


	2. Akali - Shadow's Dawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akali/Shen - M/F

**Akali  -** **Shadow’s Dawn**

Shen groaned as he awoke, finding a beam of early morning sunlight entering his room through a gap in the curtains. He winced as the light hit his slumbersome eyes, and rolled over to spare himself from the glare. His head came to fall back onto the pillow as the white satin slipped from his muscular form. The room was comfortably warm, the Ionian springtime had led to cool and clear mornings. Slowly, he opened his eyes again and found himself inches away from the pale skin of another body in his bed.

Akali lay on her side, facing towards the window. Her black hair trailed down her back like a fallen inkpot and its usual olive ties kept it from becoming unkempt in her sleep. The bed covers lingered on the curve of her hips and her hands rested atop each other under her head. She took in gentle breaths and Shen watched the rise and fall of her shoulders with each one. His gaze wandered over the muscles in her back, running the backs of his fingers over her warm skin. As he reached the small of her back, he brought his palm flat to her waist, tucking itself around and pausing on her navel. He brought his head closer to hers, taking in the scent of her jet-black hair as he pressed their bodies tighter.

Akali’s green eyes opened, blinked a few times before also taking a glance at the window.

‘It’s morning,’ she heard Shen whisper into her ear. ‘You should go.’

‘Should,’ she muttered back, letting her eyes close again. ‘But don’t want to.’

‘The students will be waking soon.’

‘Let them,’ said Akali. ‘Until one of them drags me from this bed, I’m not going anywhere.’

She rolled over, and Shen was a granted a view of her face. Her lips had dried during the night and her eyes were bleary, but he didn’t care. The angles of her face, the smooth skin and sharp features were familiar and never short of beautiful. She smirked as she saw him staring at her and the idle expression on his face. ‘Still half-asleep?’

‘No,’ said Shen. ‘Just a little awestruck.’

‘Seen a ghost?’ she joked with an arch of her lips.

‘More like a naked kunoichi in my bed,’ he said through an emerging simper. She raised a black eyebrow. His right hand came up to hold onto her thigh under the sheets as his left cupped her cheek.

‘Aren’t you a lucky one,’ she replied, leaning in and teasing his lips with a light peck. His fingers tangled themselves in the raven locks of hair not contained in her ponytail, pulling her face more tightly to his own and locking her in a passionate kiss. He felt her return the embrace, letting out an involuntary sigh into his mouth. They broke away long enough to study the glaze over each other’s eyes before Akali rubbed her nose over his and trailed a slender finger over the stubble on his jaw.

‘I’m not leaving here until you’ve given me a proper goodbye,’ she said with another kiss on his cheek.

He chuckled, a deep rumble that she felt through her elbow rested on his chest.

‘You’re demanding, aren’t you?’ he said. She saw a glint in his eye as the hold he had on her legs was pulled to bring her on top of him. Her knees came to rest on either side of his torso as she placed both hands on his shoulders. Loose strands came to tickle his skin as she leaned over him and her chest grazed his collar. She felt the warmth of his palms once more as they began to work their way along her legs. Once reaching her waist, he sat up, bringing his arms to wrap themselves around her back. She met the action, lacing her delicate arms around his neck and pressing her forehead to his. Their two bodies linked perfectly in the grip and Shen took a moment to appreciate the softness of her breasts pressed to his skin.

Akali’s sensual smile still tugged at her lips as they shared another kiss. His hands began to trail down her sides until they were filled with the supple flesh of her behind. She mewed at his massaging hands, and felt a growing hardness under her thighs. Finding a warmth spreading firstly over her cheeks before nesting in her core, Akali boldly reached back, taking a hold of his length in her silky hands and bringing it to her core. She eased herself down, allowing herself time to adjust as they both let out a breath they were subconsciously holding. She didn’t move immediately, ensuring that her legs rested comfortably down on him first. Her fingers still explored his messy hair as her chest heaved. He took the opportunity to trail a line of nibbling kisses along her collar and down to meet the mounds of her breasts that were at eyelevel. Taking a peak in his mouth, he smiled inwardly as he felt her buck at the sensation and let out an intimate moan in her throat.

She began to move more fervently and with more enthusiasm. Her walls twitched with every bob of her hips and it took a degree of restraint on his part to hold back. He sighed, releasing himself from her arms and falling back onto the pillow. His new position below gave him a perfect view of her body as she rode him, Akali’s full feminine beauty uncovered in the golden light of the morning sun that seeped in through the window.

Her smile had become absent, replaced with her tightly pursed lips as she slipped into the delight of the feeling of him inside her. A thin film of sweat had formed on the surface of her pale skin, with small beads descending down her neck. She had flung her head and upper body back, allowing him to reach unfound areas in her passage. Her black mane bounced behind her, and the similar patch of black on her mound framed their connection in the sunlight.

He felt himself nearing his limit with her eager movements and soon enough, he lost the battle of self-control. He released all he had inside of her, feeling every muscle in his body tense in orgasm. She quivered too, before her body fell limp and her head came to rest on his shoulder. His hands came to stroke her hair as they both attempted to catch their breath.

She looked up at him, black hair sticking to her face in places.

‘Goodbyes aren’t so bad,’ she panted. Shen silently agreed.


	3. Ahri - The Tempter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ahri - M/F

**Ahri -** **The Tempter**

_Do not fall for her charms, for it is not you she wants, they said. Your life essence is her sustenance, her currency and the fuel that powers her mystic fires._

They were told before the battle to fear the seductress that would wander the plains once the dead had fallen. Tails of brilliant white, an enticing plumage attached to a body of desire.

Skin like the first snow of an Ionian winter, hair as black as the obsidian lining the earth, and eyes of a golden prison. She would walk the fields of war, hunting any who still drew breath to swallow their essence and steal their souls. A beautiful temptress.

Many Noxian infantrymen had fallen in the Ionian invasion. The plains that circled the Placidium saw more blood seep into the soil than any other stretch of land on Runeterra. Amongst the bodies of the fallen, one still lived.

Spluttering and groaning in pain, the soldier tried to move his broken limbs but found himself stuck on the stricken earth surrounded by his former comrades.

Hours passed. The winter winds lifted the banners that were stuck in the ground, and soon the soldier felt his eyesight blur as his body began to shut down.

Through the haze that covered his vision, a figure appeared. A voluptuous feminine body that walked with ethereal grace through the dead. White skin and black hair, wearing traditional garb of the eastern isle, he knew it to be her.

She caught his gaze, paused, and pressed an index finger to her red lips. He was silenced in an instant.

‘How tempting,’ she giggled, as if her voice was in his mind. His vision went black as he tumbled into the embrace of her charms.

He did not know how many days and nights had passed. He awoke in a simple wooden bed, large enough for two people. His eyes glanced warily around at his surroundings, finding himself to be in a small island hut. Tied herbs in clusters hung from the ceiling and ornate embroidered patterns of red and white draped from the walls. A shuffle of movement brought his gaze further into the room.

From behind, he saw the fox-like girl again, her tails dancing idly behind her back. She was attending to something on a small table at one end of the room, her back to him. She hummed a soft tune in her chest sending soft tones drifting into the room. His sight wandered up the fabric of her ornate boots, the backs of her knees, past the fullness of her hips and towards the exposed skin of her neck.

She noticed him awake, spinning on her heels with a smile on playing on her lips.

‘There you are,’ she cooed, before strutting towards the foot of the bed. Her hands came down onto its surface as she began to crawl on all fours towards him, eyes looking him up and down. ‘I’ve been waiting for you.’

Her tails plumed in the air above her head, coming around to tickle the edges of his exposed skin. It was then he noticed that his war-hardened attire was missing, replaced by a loose white robe.

With fingernails as long as feline claws, her hands worked their way up his legs as she tucked herself between his thighs, rear raised in the air. His breath caught in his throat as she began to fumble around at his groin, slipping between the folds of the white fabrics and finally exposing his length to her.

She let out a low whistle of appreciation at his size. ‘I’m going to have fun with you,’ she breathed in a seductive whisper. Her silky fingers came to wrap themselves around his cock, pumping slowly in her delicate grip. He moaned through an emerging pant, finding her movements perfectly timed for his pleasure. Before long, he was as hard as he could be.

She smiled, locking her stare to his as she slowly brought her head down. Her tongue inched out of her mouth and gave a tantalizing lick from the bottom right to the tip of his shaft. The underside of his member was slick with her saliva before she brought her mouth to the top and engulfed him in one quick sink of her head.

She began to bob her head rhythmically, twisting her hand around him with every movement, each time taking more and more of him inside her warm mouth. With a final push, she did not stop or show any signs of gagging as her lips reached all the way to touch the skin of his crotch, his member totally swallowed.

She pulled her mouth off of him, taking in a well-needed breath. A smile and a narrow of her golden eyes was shot his way accompanied by a lick of her soft lips. She straddled him and began to gyrate her hips with mesmerising slow grinds. The apex of her thighs pressed itself to his cock ensuring his interest did not waver. Her eyes never left him.

With her slender arms crossed over her chest, she brought the straps of her elaborate dress down her pale shoulders until it teetered on the peaks of her breasts. Only the smallest tug would let the material fall free and expose her to him. He made an attempt to reach up and grant him the sight he wanted so badly, but two impressively strong white tails came around the pin his arms to the bed.

‘You’re mine now,’ she purred at his impatience. ‘You’ll do as I want.’ She giggled, her arms stretching above her head, the movement letting the dress slip from her chest and fall around her waist. In the dim light of the hut, the soldier could see the perked nipples of her ample tits, hardened in the cool air. They were perfectly shaped, full and supple, defying the usual laws of gravity. He was close enough to see the bumps developing on her skin in the cool air.

His hand came up, hesitant that her tails would come to stop him once more, but she allowed him to fill his hand with the softness of her right breast and pinch her nipple. She sighed deeply, closing her eyes.

She shifted her weight off him, laying back on the bed and raising her long legs in the air. With her toes touching, her dress that was previously pooled around her middle was slid up the length of her legs and tossed it off the side of the bed. He watched her with interest, admiring the sight of her revealed quim between her closed legs raised in the air.

He had little time to ogle her naked body before she was back on top of him and bringing the tip of his cock to her folds. She sank herself down, giving no time to adjust as she bucked her hips and pushed herself deep. Immersed in her slick velvet walls, he found her ass moving at speed.

Every pump was joined by an involuntary moan from him and a purr from her. It did not take long for him to be nearing an end, and he tried ever so hard to make this moment last as long as he could make it.

She moaned in appreciation, her dainty hands on his shoulders as she pumped him for all his worth. She bit her bottom lip in response to the twitches she could feel below, increasing her speed. His breath was leaving him as a surge of fluids filled her womb. She wailed at the sensation, silencing herself by capturing the lips of her prize.

His body went limp in post-orgasm bliss, expecting the usual feeling of tiredness. However, this time the sensation was increased tenfold and he found himself struggling to keep his eyes open.

His essence had filled her with newfound life and energy as she watched his skin pale with a coy smile. Dragging her lips from his, his eyes showed no more signs of life and had glazed over. With the tips of her fingers, she flicked his eyelids shut with a contented sigh.

‘Playtime’s over.’


	4. Quinn - Peace in the Wilderness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quinn - M/F with Talon

**Quinn -** **Peace in the Wilderness**

The winds that drifted over the Noxian border had a chill in their bite and sang whispers of eerie songs through the vale. The grasses on the hillside swayed with the breeze, though their colour was of sable rather than the brilliant emerald of Demacia that she was used to. Quinn watched the horizon warily, checking that no border patrols or lone guards wandered this far up from the main military outpost a few miles north.

Her camp was secluded enough in the dips of the land that she was confident she would remain unseen, but being so close to enemy lines kept her adrenaline up. With military training ticking over in her mind every second, Quinn ensured the perimeter was secure before making any moves or settling down for the night.

She did not feel comfortable being so close to the skyline of Noxus, but her mission required it. Demacia had entrusted the reconnaissance operation to their Wings. Quinn and Valor were the obvious tag team for the task. She didn’t want to let Jarvan or her country down and had completed several past assignments with this determination, but this time she found herself struggling to concentrate.

A blue speck soared in the overcast skies ahead, undulating with every flap of its wings. Valor scouted the border from above with a level of precision no ranger on the ground could compete with. His impeccable eyesight coupled with unparalleled speed meant that any precaution could be taken in plenty of time if a threat arose. She was glad to have him with her.

His passing surveillance appeared to be finished as he swooped back her way. Arm outstretched, Valor landed briskly onto Quinn’s forearm. She knew his talons were sharp enough to rip through a man’s chest and so her armour had been adapted for him to perch upon.

Valor gave a squawk as she nuzzled her finger under his beak.

‘Anything to report, Val?’ she said. He tilted his feathered head to the side before letting out another caw. ‘That’s what we like to hear,’ she smiled. She scratched his downy chest, letting him tuck his wings around her shoulders.

‘I need you to stay up there Val, just for a few more hours. Can’t risk missing any of the Noxian squadrons leaving the outpost while I’m down here,’ she said. Valor looked displeased at the instruction, taking a peck at her gloved finger under his chin. ‘Ow! You cheeky…’ She swatted his head away gently. ‘You’ll be lucky to get any food tonight if you carry on like that.’

She lifted her arm up to the skies and gave him a prod in his back. ‘Now, off! We’ve got a job to do, Val.’ The eagle reluctantly found his wings and took off into the air once more, flying back towards the direction she knew the outpost to be.

She waited until he had all but disappeared before making her way back to the makeshift camp she had erected. Her tent was only really large enough for one or two people at a push, which allowed her to carry it in her pack while travelling. Camouflaged against the wilderness, a small campfire was set up next to it, although it was not currently alight as she needed to know that the area was empty before doing so.

With a quick strike of her flint and tinder, she knelt to let the spark pass over the kindling. Blowing gently over the emerging flame, she let it grow into a crackling fire, enjoying the warmth hitting her exposed skin. Moisture lay heavy in the air, but it did not seem to deter the growing campfire.

Satisfied, she went to stand back up until she felt the chill of cold steel on her neck.

‘Your attention is not so sharp without that pigeon of yours,’ a cold voice said into her ear. She took a quick glance down, noticing it to be an armblade at her throat, surrounded by the dark purple fabric of the assailant’s attire.

‘And you seem a little preoccupied with your bravado to notice the crossbow at your heart,’ she replied. His eyes flicked to the golden crossbow shaped like an eagle’s head in her hand, a bolt primed between its risers and aimed at the thin leather covering his chest. He let the blade fall.

She stood up properly, turning to see the hooded figure of a familiar Noxian assassin. ‘Du Couteu let you out of her sight then?’ she asked, her lips raising in a smirk.

‘Wasn’t so hard with all the shit the council are dealing with currently. Send my thanks back to the Demacian council for that one,’ said Talon, letting his hood slip from his head. The head of roughly cut brown hair was messy and joined by some dark stubble on his jaw. He looked like he hadn’t slept in a week.

‘You look well,’ she said, still with the smile playing on her face.

‘As do you. Is smelling like a dog a requirement for these scouting missions?’

‘That’s what being so close to Noxus does to a girl,’ said Quinn, a glint in her hazel eyes.

Talon’s face was hard for a moment, before he soon gave in and began to laugh. He took a quick step forward and took her around the waist, pressing her tightly to his body. His arm sat around her back between the folds of her blue cloak that resembled the feathers of her beloved eagle. She stood up on her tip toes to reach his face, nuzzling her cheek against him briefly before pressing her lips to his. After weeks on the road and alone, she needed the warmth of a human being, doubly glad that the person to fulfil that desire was him. His familiar scent was of smoke and dust, unpleasant to most but one that ignited a sense of solace in her.

‘How have you been?’ he said quietly into her short brown hair. His head was pressed to the top of hers as her hands came to rest around his shoulder.

‘Bored,’ she said. ‘Demacia seems to have some grand ideas about what General Swain is planning. I’m yet to see any of it. Won’t let me back home until I have something to show.’

Talon snorted.

‘Let me tell you, General Swain isn’t doing much of anything right now. Apart from shouting at everyone and screeching curses at the Lightshield family that is. Noxus couldn’t organise its way out of a tavern brawl right now, let alone negotiate a war.’

Quinn chuckled, a sound that was muffled as her mouth was lost in his embrace.

‘Jarvan’s just paranoid, as are most of the noble houses. Even Fiora and Vayne were in the council chambers when I left. You know it’s bad when those two are joining in.’

‘Gods, I hate that woman,’ said Talon with a huff.

‘Fiora?’

‘Yeah. Miss _“I am an artist with a sword”._ ’ Quinn burst into a fit of giggles at his attempt at Fiora’s iconic accent. ‘Would pay a fine price to have that blade shoved down her throat. Might shut her up for a minute.’

‘Try living in the same city as her,’ said Quinn.

Their conversation seemed to die as the winds became the only sound filling the air. The sun was beginning its descent beyond the black slate roofs of Noxus’ buildings in the distance, and the night’s temperature was rolling in.

Quinn took a hold of his hand, pulling away from the outside and towards the mouth of her tent.

‘It’s warmer in here,’ she said, flopping down onto her bedroll.

‘Yeah, but it’s about the size of a drawer in here,’ he said as he ducked his head to avoid the tent’s fabric roof.

‘Better keep close then,’ she said, pulling him roughly by the arm. They began to tumble around together, fumbling to find a comfortable position within the sheets of her bed and the few possessions she had on the floor. Eventually, Quinn landed on her back, with Talon leaning over her, a hand planted next to her ear to support him.

‘Hello,’ she said at his closeness.

‘Thought we were done with pleasantries,’ he breathed. He studied her face, complete with flecks of mud from her time in the wilds and a slight cut over one cheek. Her eyes were still as striking as ever to him, and the loose strands of mahogany hair that fell over her face were alluring. He sometimes forgot how beautiful this enemy scout was.

She seemed to tire of his pause and brought her chin up to capture his chapped lips in another kiss. He revelled in the softness and warmth of her mouth, letting his hand wander up one side of her leather jerkin, stopping on her middle.

He leant down, trailing short pecks along the side of her collar and upwards to her neck. He took a bite at her skin, taking the flesh between his teeth with the hope of eliciting some sort of reaction from her. To his displeasure, the move seemed to do nothing for her. He leant back up to look at her face.

‘Valor bites harder,’ she grinned. ‘Have to do better than that.’

He huffed with a deep grumble. Lips pursed, she could see that she had ignited a fire in his eyes from her words. Behind the hard exterior, Talon was gentle and compassionate, but as soon as things starting to stray from going his way, he slipped straight back in to his usual stoic character.

He pulled at her leather chest piece, tugging it over her head, leaving her in her blue robes and bodysuit. He fumbled with the buckles of her cloak, struggling to work out where the intricate material was joined together.

‘Why do they make your dress look like an eagle as well? Isn’t having Valor enough indication that you like birds? Don’t have to dress up as one as well,’ he said through a gruff breath. He was becoming irritated, but in a playful way. The way she enjoyed.

‘Bit rich coming from a man dressed in a cloak of blades. Isn’t having the comically oversized armblade enough to show that you like stabbing people?’

‘Cloak serves a purpose,’ he muttered, slipping the blue fabric from her shoulders. She sat up, holding his face in her hands. She retook his lips, undoing the clasp around his neck that kept his cloak on, careful that the bladed ends didn’t nick her skin.

His mouth impatiently retook its assault on her neck, kissing her white skin with fervour. He tucked his hands beneath the skin-tight purple body suit of hers, enjoying how warm her covered skin was. It peeled from her body like a snake shedding its skin, slipping over her small breasts and baring her top half to him. He threw his undershirt off and embraced her tightly.

His palms began to wander around her midriff, feeling the bumps and dips of her abdominal muscles tight in their place. His fingertips grazed her firm nipples atop the slight mounds of her breasts. While the many women he encountered in Noxus and his travels around Runeterra had breasts of far greater sizes compared to Quinn’s, hers were perfectly fitting on her taut body. He wouldn’t change them for the world. Her daintiness coupled with hidden strength was part of what he loved about her.

She rose her hips and allowed him to slide the bodysuit down the remainder of her body, revealing her sleek legs in the orange light of the campfire that found its way into the tent. With her totally bared to him, he granted himself a moment to trace the length of her legs, stopping briefly at her hips and the dark patch tucked between her legs, her heaving chest and the shy expression on her cute face.

She leaned her head back, feeling his touch gliding up the inside of her thigh. There was a pause, one where she wasn’t sure what to expect next, but a sudden brush of his tongue along the inside of her womanhood brought her attention quickly to what was happening between her legs. He licked and sucked at her opening, never allowing her time to recover before he was on her again. Her pleasure built and her breaths began to catch in her chest with every stroke of his talented tongue. She gave a breathy moan as his passing skimmed her clitoris and beads of sweat formed on her brow at the sensation.

He stopped, pleased with the fact her bent knees were still trembling from his stimulation. Her eyes had closed tightly and her lip was caught between her teeth.

‘Still bored?’ he heard him whisper into her ear.

‘Definitely not,’ she panted.

She could feel the hardness of his length prodding at her, the contact only exciting her further. She didn’t know when exactly he had discarded the rest of his clothes, but she didn’t care as he slowly introduced his member to her folds. With a slow exhale, he was sheathed inside her and her arms quickly came to wrap themselves around his neck and pull him into her face.

He began to thrust slowly, adjusting to her tightness and the dizzying warmth of her vagina. For every time he tried to reach deeper into her passage, he felt her breath leave her chest and lift the wisps of hair behind his ear. Her legs too came up to link behind his back as he continued and she nestled her head into his shoulder. His arms were strong, and she felt totally safe in the loving embrace he was shrouding her in.

As his pace increased, her battle of trying to contain her sounds of pleasure was lost, letting out several wails of desire at the sensations that were coursing within her. His pants too had increased, and she knew he was getting close.

‘I can’t…’ she heard him begin to say, but seemed to run out of air in his lungs. He pulled out of her, taking a hold of his cock in his hand and sending several shots of white seed across her mound and midriff. A few threatened to touch her breasts, but fell just short. Her mouth had fallen open. He collapsed down next to her and she brought her thigh up to sit atop his side as their orgasms left them in weary bliss.

‘How long did you tell Valor to stay up there?’ he asked breathlessly.

‘A few hours,’ she said, looking up at him as she hugged his arm. ‘When does Katarina expect you back?’

‘Long enough away to stay here a little longer.’

‘Good,’ she said, laying her cheek down on his chest. He brought a hand up to stroke her shoulder length hair and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head.

Weeks in the wilds had all become worth it for a few moments with him.


	5. Irelia - Corporal Punishment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Irelia - M/F

**Irelia - Corporal Punishment**

Irelia was cold.

The rain hit her face and left her azure hair dripping onto her exposed skin. Out in the Noxian camp with her arms tied in chains to one of the convoy carts, she tried to keep herself in the shadows. Every time a group of passing soldiers came by, she inched further into the darkness in hopes that they wouldn’t notice her. She was sick of their leers and crass chides. The calloused hands threatening to touch her and their sickening gestures. Their insults had no truth to them, she knew that in herself, but each time the words hurt a little more.

An Ionian amongst Noxians was never going to go down well. Being the young captain of the famed Ionian guard, responsible for sending many a Noxian to their graves was not helping either.

Irelia shifted her weight around, trying her best to find a more comfortable position on the wet grass. Her ceremonial red and white armour protected her perfectly in battle, but it was damn near unbearable in the situation she found herself in. The segments of eastern steel dug into her sides, and her chest plate did nothing to support her back against the convoy’s hard wooden side. Her arms were aching and weary, and her stomach gave a rumble whenever the scent of military food wafted its way to her nose. Never in her life had she craved the gruel that was served to infantrymen during wartime.

She had spent the last hour studying the lock that her chains were bound by. If there was any indication of some way it could be opened, she welcomed it. She had tried wiggling the chains in specific ways that may uncover a weakness in the design, applying pressure in certain places, and even trying to use a fingernail as a makeshift lockpick. It was becoming obsessive. She was desperate. By the time the sun had gone down, she had no more tears left to cry.

A figure stood over her, sending a black shade over her form.

‘Still awake, Ionian? Like a blanket to help you through the night? Going to get a little chilly,’ the man said. She didn’t want to meet the eyes of whoever this newcomer was. She’d put up with it all day. ‘Nothing to say? Normally can’t shut that fucking mouth of yours when you’re on the battlefield.’ She kept her gaze at his boots, her will for defiance had ran out hours ago.

‘Had your tongue cut out? This ain’t any fun if you’re not offended.’

She felt him grab her by the jaw and bring her face close to his. She noticed him to be a higher ranked officer than the usual rabble that came to throw slurs at her. A crimson cloak hung from his back with black armour on his body and a sword of polished steel clinking by his side.

His grip was tight on her jaw, feeling her teeth digging into her cheek. Her emerald eyes were forced to look into his face. He was rugged and worn with dark eyes that had seen a thousand fallen foes.

‘Ionia is dead. Your shit heap of a homeland is burning. Your life belongs to Noxus now, whore.’ His smile was insufferable. She spat into his eyes, causing him to turn his head to the side as a shot of saliva trickled down his nose. He wiped it off on the scarf around his neck. When his face remerged from behind the material, the resentment was obvious.

A sharp crack like the snap of a horseman’s whip sounded out. She let out a gasp and a quick yelp of pain as an excruciating sting formed on her cheek. Her whole head had been knocked aside from the force of the slap. The officer seemed content with the discomfort he had caused.

‘Remember your place, bitch. Unless you want me to remind you,’ he said. The unmistakeable shrill of grinding metal was heard, before a dagger appeared from behind the Noxian’s back. The blade was brought to her neck and she stared at it in wary horror.

‘How about a scar for all the countrymen you failed to save?’

The knife touched her skin. She daren’t take a breath and kept perfectly still. He twisted his grip on the handle. Her eyes shut tight.

‘Lieutenant. The prisoner is not yours to control,’ a gruff voice said. Silhouetted against the torchlight was a hulking form, emphasised with heavy spiked shoulder pads and the outline of an extremely large axe by their side. Illuminated in the dim light, General Darius strode over to the engagement, his presence causing the subordinate officer to stand and bow in respect.

‘Forgive me, General. Spilling the blood of the Ionians gave me a taste for them. Couldn’t resist,’ the soldier replied with a wry grin sent at Irelia’s face. He flipped the dagger up in the air, before slipping it back into its sheath. She watched from the floor, her worry now heightened at the appearance of the Noxian axe-wielder.

‘Bring her to my tent,’ Darius said flatly, before trudging back to the main encampment. The officer seemed to animate in a flash, grabbing her under the arms and freeing the chains from the convoy cart she was linked to. She still had her wrists in shackles, but was finally granted slightly more movement. She took the chance to stretch some life back into her sore muscles.

‘This way, bitch. Walk,’ he commanded, planting a hand on her shoulder and shoving her hard in the direction of Darius’ tent.

He used her to force the fabric door aside and pushed her into the large military pavilion. Darius was leant over a table with a map of the Ionian plains spread out on its surface. Small knives and darts were stuck in the wood, marking out positions on the land.

‘You are dismissed,’ Darius instructed the Noxian. The man shot Irelia a hard glance before nodding mechanically, saluting and leaving the room.

Irelia stood awkwardly in the doorway, still wriggling in her bonds. Left alone with Darius, a storm of nerves welled in the pit of her empty stomach at the prospect of what he might do. The giant brute of a man had a reputation throughout Runeterra for cruelty and barbarianism.

He walked over to her, and began to circle her like a vulture above a carcass. She felt his eyes wander up and down her form. She distracted herself by looking around at the inside of the General’s tent. Lavishly dressed in blacks and red, the room was ornate and distinctly Noxian. Draped in fabrics and plush seats, she was sure this was a privilege reserved for the highest ranked Noxian and guessed the rest of the infantrymen were not spending the cold night in such comfort.

He collapsed down lazily onto one of the seats that was aimed her way. She remained standing, not daring to say a word.

‘How does it feel, Irelia? Did you expect a day to come when your country would fall to Noxus? Ionia was a difficult part of the map to conquer, I’ll give you that. Tenacity runs through your people. I can respect that. A refusal to die is honourable,’ he said.

‘Don’t speak to me about honour, you savage,’ she finally spoke through clenched teeth meeting his red eyes. The anxiety forming in her core was replaced with boiling rage that she was trying her hardest to contain. ‘Pillaging your way through a land of peace. Your country knows only dim-witted scorn.’

He gave a quick exhale in a strained laugh.

‘You are still yet to recognise where you now stand in this world, girl. Disobedience and defiance will get you nowhere now. With Ionia gone, a week on your own would be your death.’

‘It would not,’ she said flatly. ‘The moment I’m free of this imprisonment, I would start a new rebellion. One to see your wretched country to its end.’

Darius gave another laugh, heartier than any previously, clapping a meaty hand to his knee.

‘I’d like to see that. Squashing more of you eastern worms would be sport.’

‘Then release me. I’m sure we’ll see each other in the future in that case. You can have whatever revenge you have planned when we meet again.’

Darius seemed to pause in thought for a moment, studying the expressionless face of the young Ionian girl with interest. Her audacity to make proposals intrigued him. Her features were hard and passive.

‘I’d be a fool to release you so easily without a price to pay. I have you exactly where I want you, remember that.’ He stood up from his seat, towering above the lithe woman and looking down at her. ‘You need to offer something to me first. A deposit of this agreement.’

Her lips that were tight began to unwind as her eyes narrowed.

‘Consider my proposal, Irelia. As the only Ionian still with fire in your veins, I will release you in hopes of seeing this uprising you’ve conjured in your mind, on one condition. You do as I say from now until I am happy. You be a peon under my control. If dawn comes and I am not satisfied, you won’t be leaving here unscathed.’ He placed a hand on his chest. ‘That is a promise I intend to keep.’

‘What are your promises worth?’ she hissed. He leant in to her until his mouth was inches away from her ear.

‘Even if I offer false hope, it’s all you have. For all my trust is worth to you, one night and you walk out of here free.’

Her mind clung to that prospect. A dawn coming as the only liberated of the Ionian Elders. Her heart longed for it.

‘Fine,’ she said without much thought to its implications. ‘I’ll do it. Whatever you want.’ Her words came out lacking the conviction of her previous fighting words.

A smile rose on Darius’ face, one that unveiled a row of teeth like those of a predator. He sat back down, casually folding his arms.

‘Take that armour off,’ he said. Her eyes immediately widened, hoping in herself that she had misheard.

‘What? No,’ she said.

‘No? The agreements been made, Irelia. I can arrange a convoy to take you from here and straight to the Noxian high command quicker than you can say another word if you so wish. The undead of Noxus truly have a way with their prisoners.’

Irelia visibly shivered. Images of Urgot and Sion rose to the forefront of her mind. She exhaled slowly, taking a moment to prepare herself. Her fingers wandered up to the straps of her shoulder plates, unclasping them and letting them fall to the floor with a heavy clunk. Her boots and hardened mid-section joined them, leaving her only dressed in her wraps and bodysuit that she wore underneath.

‘Good. You seem to want to earn your freedom. Turn around,’ he ordered. She complied, facing the tent’s door that blew gently in the wind. Without seeing she could tell his gaze was trailing down her back and over the swell of her rear.

She was not ready for the hard shove that hit her in between her shoulders, sending her toppling to the floor.  As she moved onto her hands and knees, she felt Darius’ large hands take a grasp at her backside, running a gauntleted hand over the curve of her ass.

‘Wait…’ she tried to say. With a powerful tug of his fists, her thin bodysuit ripped in two, exposing the pale skin of her rear. She yelped in surprise at the aggressive move, but was more concerned when he began to pull her cheeks apart. Her untouched sex was spread apart, the pink lips in the lamplight. No wetness glistened in the light.

Her breath was caught in her throat as the heat of the Noxian’s tongue began to lap at her. The foreign sensation started to overwhelm her mind and she found the muscles in upper arms begin to quiver and tremble. When his fingers joined in the exploration of her slit, her will to stay upright all but gave out. Her head hit the floor of the tent and she let out a plea of several breathy gasps.

His palm came down hard to plant itself on her wide ass, causing a loud smack. Her small hands reached behind her to rub her sore cheek, but were immediately swatted away by Darius. She squealed again as he repeated the action several more times, producing a redness that coloured her pale skin.

With her face still pressed to the floor and her ass aimed to the sky, he was eager to use the girl more. Satisfied with the wetness gleaming on her precious womanhood, Darius began to remove his armour. Freeing himself from the constraints of his battle-worn attire, he pressed his cock to her entrance, rubbing the head along her labia to collect the fluid. Irelia’s eyes clutched tightly in preparation for what she was about to experience, constantly reminding herself that it was for the good of her liberation. She would do what she had to do to survive, and then she would forget about it.

His length inched inside of her and she found herself unable to take in any air. It was not painful as such, as her passage was sufficiently lubricated, but it was odd to her. With every push he made, his cock found new depths and the unusual feelings rose in Irelia’s core. Her nipples strained against the torn bodysuit that still clung to her upper half, and so she subconsciously started to grind her chest to the floor.

He began to build a tempo, his groin slapping against her ass with every thrust of his manhood into her. With the increase of pace, the crescendo that was brewing in her core was threatening to send her over the edge. She gasped as Darius reached down, running a hand along her back and taking a clump of her blue hair in his grip. He pulled her head up, lifting her arms up from the floor. His free hand took her by the wrist as he drove his cock onwards through her hole. He watched with delight as every press of his crotch sent a ripple through the supple flesh of her ass.

His hands left her hip, wandering up her cloth-covered front and squeezing her confined breasts. They were not large like many of the Noxian women, but were perked and pressed tightly to her chest. His stout fingers tucked under her collar, creating a small tear down her neckline. Once the material was weakened, he tugged hard. The fabric ripped perfectly down the middle, all the way to he waist where her bottoms had already been torn away. With her suit clumped in his grip, he tossed it aside, leaving her naked and bare. His cock was still embedded in her folds, and a dribble of fluid had begun to trickle down the inside of her thigh.

He pulled out slowly, leaving her lips still parted. She toppled over to the side, laying on her shoulder.

‘Stand,’ he commanded. Whilst still trying to get some air into her lungs, she weakly found her feet and stood on wobbly legs. He took a moment to appreciate her body, his gaze sliding up the length of her longs legs, the neatly kept area between her legs, her small breasts topped with erect nubs and the bleary-eyed look on her face.

Still hard, Darius sat back on the seat. He gave a twirl with his fingers indicating for her to turn around. She did so.

‘Sit,’ she heard him say. Nervously she took a step back and slowly brought her backside down onto his lap. Before she adjusted back to the contact of their skins, she choked as Darius grabbed her by the neck and forced her back. Hauled over, she leant against him, with his head sitting on her shoulder.

She could feel the hardness of his member under her thighs, and soon his fingers slipped under to take a hold of it. He slid it up past and over her sex, coating the head in her wetness that still lingered on her lower lips. At that moment, he eyes widened as the head of his cock was pressed to her anus. He toyed her for a moment, prodding her puckered hole before he pulled her body firmly down. She felt the tip of him sink itself into her, filling her with another odd and unfamiliar sensation. There was a degree of discomfort, even with only an inch inside her, but their previous engagement had meant that it could slide deeper without much pain. She closed her eyes and let him carry on, letting out strained moans as she sank onto him.

Before she knew it, the entirety of his dick was within the fleshy walls of her ass. He began to move, the feeling of her tight orifice bringing him greater pleasure than he expected. Every inch as he slipped out and pressed back in sent him closer to his edge. His grip on her hips glided up her side until his hands became filled with the soft flesh of her breasts. He teased her nipples, altering between flicks and pinches. With a particularly deep thrust and the stimulation on her neglected breasts, Irelia let out a loud moan of involuntary appreciation.

Darius continued to press on, raising his hips up to meet the skin of her ass as she came down. Her vagina cried out in arousal, left alone with his length elsewhere. She felt ashamed in herself for enjoying the pleasure emitted from being pounded so ruthlessly, and her deft fingers began to rub circles around her clitoris. The disgraceful fire in her core was building, and from the deep grunts that came from over her shoulder, she guessed that the Noxian was nearly done with her.

She wailed as he rammed himself on last time, sending several strands of hot cum into her rectum. She fell forward off his lap, hitting the floor with white liquid leaking from her used hole. His cock shot off another surge of fluid that hit the still red skin of her backside. She struggled to breathe, still with her nethers sending spikes of pleasure to her mind that caused her muscles to twitch.

Darius stood over her, cleaned himself off and started to redress.

‘Are you satisfied?’ she said, finding her voice weak and hoarse.

He considered her words for a moment, before continuing to rummage around the room.

‘Yes. Get out of my sight,’ he said. She could not believe that his words had been true, and that just beyond the fabric of the tent’s door lay a world of liberation.

She crawled over to her armour, attempting to collect it up in her hands.

‘Leave it. Either you go now with nothing or I keep you here. Your choice.’

She was shocked by his new conditions, but knew that she held no power over the situation. Freedom had been offered in line with the terms of their agreement. She had to take it. With no clothes to protect her from the frigid winds of the night, she took off, hoping to good that none of the soldiers were still awake.

Darius walked over to her armour segments that were still strewn around on the floor. He collected them up, along with the torn remains of her bodysuit. He bundled them into a chest and wrapped it up, ready to be delivered to the Noxian High Command.


	6. Riven/Katarina - Noxus Forgone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Riven/Katarina F/F

**Riven/Katarina - Noxus Forgone**

The training dummy hit the ground.

Riven let out the breath she had been holding as she delivered the fatal blow to her target, taking a moment to reset her posture and return her stance to be at ease. The runes on her greatsword hummed with life and seemed to quiver in time with every breath of its owner. Soon it returned to its usual broken self.

Riven wiped a bead of sweat from her brow. This set of exercises and drills never normally made her tired. She was getting out of shape. Her technique was far sloppier than it had been during her days in the military and her strikes were slow and unmeasured. She had been in the training room every day for the past week and still she was seeing no improvements in her blade-work. She made a point of only training in the dead of night when the halls of the institute were empty and quiet to avoid any unnecessary interactions. As such, she always had the room to herself.

She lined herself up for another run of the exercise, before the creak of the door behind her pulled her out of her concentration.

‘Struggling, are we?’ a familiar sultry voice said from the doorway. Riven closed her eyes tightly, knowing exactly who stood behind her without having to turn around.

‘Training,’ she muttered. She brought her attention back to her practice, standing tall and holding her blade straight in front of her, with her palm pressed against its flat edge. She wasn’t going to let her focus break.

‘Head high now, Riven. Remember what your drill sergeant told you,’ the voice taunted again. ‘If he could see you now, I shudder to think what he would say.’

The muscles in Riven’s shoulders tensed and her grip on her sword’s handle tightened. Her lip rose in distaste as she took in a breath to try and calm her frustration. She relaxed before moving into her combat stance and preparing to swing her blade and begin her next round of training.

_Ignore it._

‘The poster child of Noxus. How things change.’

Riven froze. She spun on her heels and faced the newcomer, finally staring into the eyes that sent a thousand racing thoughts to her mind.

Katarina Du Couteu idly flicked one of her many blades between her fingers, tossing it into the air and spinning it around her thumb. She held her perpetual, smug and arrogant expression on her face and Riven saw how the corners of her mouth had risen into a slight smile. Riven’s face was hard as she attempted to conceal her frustration, but Katarina was all too aware by the white of her knuckles around her sword. Soon enough, the sweat had returned on the surface of Riven’s skin as a warm flushed rush through her body.

‘What do you want?’ said Riven bluntly, hoping the tinge of pink on her cheeks had gone unnoticed.

‘Just to see how you were coping. Noxus misses you Riven,’ Katarina replied taking a step into the room and closing the door behind her. With a flick of her wrist she slid the bolt across, locking them inside.

‘I do not miss it,’ said Riven.

‘Oh, now that’s too bad. The city longs for her great warriors, don’t go being a disappointment now. We haven’t had anyone with quite your potential since you abandoned us.’

‘Fighting for what is right does not make me a “disappointment”, Du Couteu. You don’t seem to understand that.’

‘So that is what you were doing, was it? Wandering Valoran in search of your self-worth is what you consider _right_. Don’t let me stop you Riven.’ Katarina took another step forward. ‘But perhaps seeing as now you’ve come straight back to me, what you were seeking was right under your nose all along.’

Katarina kept moving forward until she stood only a few inches away from the white-haired warrior. Riven eyed the redhead closely, watching her every move and studying her face. Katarina was still dressed in the outfit she would normally be seen wearing on the Fields of Justice, the skin-tight leather gripping the flesh of her thighs and breasts. The iconic black tattoo that wove its way up her midriff was exposed as usual, and tracing its sleek lines along her sides sent a shiver up Riven’s spine.

‘I have no idea what you’re talking about,’ Riven said flatly, breaking her gaze away from the assassin’s body.

‘You most certainly do. I can still see it in you. Your eyes have not changed since we last met.’ Katarina brought up her hand that still held the knife and moved Riven’s fringe out her eyes with its tip. The blade’s end lingered around Riven’s nose but Riven knew better than to make any sudden movements. While her strength was unmatched by the assassin, Katarina’s speed and agility completely outclassed her. At this moment, weary from her exercises, a duel would not be in her favour. ‘We used to be so close,’ Katarina said. Riven’s amber eyes fell to the floor.

‘And then you went and changed,’ Riven said quietly. Katarina looked surprised at her change of tone. The girl’s voice had become weak and airy.

‘I’m still me,’ Katarina said with a warming smile and a step forwards, staring her emerald eyes into Riven’s. ‘Let me prove it to you.’

In an instant, Riven’s eyes opened wide as Katarina pressed her lips against the warrior’s, pulling her around the small of her back into the assassin’s hold. She took her right hand and lost it within Riven’s white tresses, taking a clump of the silky white hair. Katarina’s made sure she did not pull away, keeping the woman’s lips fervently planted on her own. The warmth baring on the Exile’s cheeks spread around her body, sitting in the pit of her stomach and imbuing her core.

A rush of nostalgic heat hit Riven’s core as she remembered the times in her home city where the very same lips and touch had made her feel so safe. Though years had passed, and battles had come and gone, the sentiments still lingered in the corners of her mind.

Riven was stunned at the redhead’s advances, but soon found herself melting into the hold of her former lover. She had missed the woman’s unyielding grip and her ability to be completely in control. Riven allowed herself to be lead along.

Katarina’s hands wandered from her head down Riven’s back, before resting at the bottom of her spine, where the flesh of her rear caused her wrappings to protrude. She took a handful of the flesh through the fabric of Riven’s skirt as her other hand slid down the warrior’s front. She felt her sigh into her mouth, her moans suppressed by Katarina’s lips. The assassin was filled with a sense of pride, congratulating herself on how quickly she had been able to wear down Riven’s hard shell.

Riven’s grip on her sword became loose as it clattered to the ground. Like turning her back on a faithful companion, she pushed it aside with her foot giving them more space in the dimly lit training room. Riven’s hand came up to brush the exposed skin of Katarina’s midriff, feeling the woman’s warmth once more on her fingertips. She trailed higher, her touch sliding along the redhead’s breast, but finding it obstructed by her leather bustier. Disappointed but not deterred, Riven decided to let her other hand follow Katarina’s lead and fall to the woman’s backside. The action sent shivers along the surface of Riven’s skin and shoots of electricity coursed through her form. She did not let go and dipped her hands into Katarina’s tight leather trousers and clasped her hands around the cheeks.

Katarina broke the kiss, pushing the warrior back and holding her at arm’s length. Riven’s hands were regretfully pulled from beneath Katarina’s clothes. Her palms immediately felt cold. She stared into the emerald of the Sinister Blade’s eyes, noticing how their usual stoic hardness had been reduced to a glazed, albeit mischievous lust.

‘You’ve not forgotten how to do that I see,’ said Katarina with a cocky smirk.

‘Never,’ said Riven, though a hint of a smile ghosted on her lips. Her attitudes were still confused towards her fellow countryman, but in the moment, it was obvious her body was less than caring.

Katarina’s fingers came to rest on Riven’s shoulders, trailing around her tanned neck before slipping under the remains of her Noxian armour. The large shoulder pad was studded and spiked, displaying the faded insignia of the Noxian military’s wings. A shade of her former self that she struggled to leave behind.

‘You haven’t been able to completely forgo Noxus I see,’ Katarina remarked, both gesturing at her armour and the runeblade that was on the floor at their feet. ‘She still follows you around.’

‘As do you,’ Riven whispered in Katarina’s ear as she lingered around Riven’s face. She leant up, draping her arms around the assassin’s shoulders. Katarina sucked hard on the flesh of Riven’s collar, letting her teeth graze her skin.

With a quick flick, Katarina jerked her hand, a loud click resonated in the quiet room. Riven’s large green shoulder pad came loose, slipping from its place and clattering to the ground. Another click followed as Katarina’s deft fingers moved to the other side and soon, her smaller leather pad on her opposite shoulder fell too.

‘You’re heavy handed,’ Riven noted. ‘You used to be better at removing my armour.’ Riven folded her arms in feigned displeasure, pouting her lips. Katarina rose a crimson eyebrow, eyeing the ex-commander with a look of slight chagrin at her comments.

‘You used to wear a full set.’

It was Riven’s turn to give the woman a judging look. Before she could say another word, the white-haired warrior’s hands gripped the sleeves of Katarina’s small leather jacket and tugged it from her shoulders, throwing it to the ground. Katarina felt the cool air of the training room hit her shoulders. With the pale skin of her collar and neck now on show, Riven took a moment to inspect Noxus’ greatest asset and daughter of the country’s military general. She still wore her leather trousers and bustier, but without her jacket, she looked somehow incomplete, as if the unbreakable demeanour that she was famous for was beginning to crack. Her shoulders were bony but were surrounded by tight muscle that accentuated her physique.

Katarina clearly was not taking well to Riven looking her up and down. She was never the one to be scrutinised. She pushed Riven back and placed her leg behind Riven’s calf, sending the unprepared warrior tumbling back to the floor. Riven looked up with displeasure at Katarina’s offensive move, placing a hand on her ass where she had hit the ground. Katarina stood over her, planting her spiked boots between the Exile’s legs.

‘Let us get one thing straight _Exile_ , as you seem to have forgotten. I am the one who takes control. You do as _I_ say.’ Katarina pulled another blade from the many strapped to her waist, the signature ‘ _S’_ engraving that every knife carried glinting in the light from the lamp. Katarina pointed the blade at Riven. ‘Understood?’

Riven began to chuckle. She had forgotten how demanding Katarina could be, but after so many years, she welcomed it. With a playful smirk pulling at her mouth, she nodded with melodramatic exaggeration.

‘Good,’ Katarina said flatly, her own smile returning. She knelt down, moving her body over the warrior, who was propped up by her elbows. Katarina leaned in, glancing hungrily at Riven’s lips. She closed the distance, once more pressing herself to the softness of Riven’s mouth and letting her tongue slip in and dance with her partner’s. She explored every corner of her mouth as if making up for the time they had lost, running along her teeth and biting her bottom lip gently. She pulled slowly away with Riven’s lip between her front teeth letting it slip back into place.

Sliding her hand down Riven’s front, Katarina took a hold of the girl’s medium breasts, rolling them in her palm and appreciating Riven’s slightly smaller size to her own. She could tell from the touch that Riven had wrapped her breasts for her training and that their full size was being restricted. The Exile let out a breathy moan as Katarina massaged her chest, an ache growing and joining the fire burning in her core.

Falling further down with knife still in hand, Katarina ran the blade’s edge lightly along Riven’s tanned bare thigh, smirking at the reaction the slight touch was eliciting from her. The blade caused her skin to tingle as it passed, the threat of its sharpness teasing her further. She knew Katarina had no intention of hurting her, it was simply her way of approaching these encounters. Everything was paired with a little danger.

She slipped the knife away, resuming her hold on Riven’s thighs and leaning her head to the side to kiss once more along the Exile’s neck and jawline. Riven mewed at the sensation, pressing her chin onto Katarina’s shoulder and losing her hand in the blood red mane of her hair. More scents hit her nose from the swish of hair over her eyes that brought her memories surging in her mind. A night in the Noxian streets, a meeting after training, a bed shared in a lonely tavern. The assassin’s hand travelled higher, balling up Riven’s skirt as she exposed her underwear and the enticing flesh of her inner thighs. Her fingertips lingered around the crest of Riven’s waist, before dipping lightly into the material. She felt the girl’s heat, almost unbearable against her hand as Riven’s eyes slowly closed.

The pop of a button followed as Katarina pulled off Riven’s purple corset, letting her wrappings come loose. Riven wasn’t caring. Spots of black had begun to swim across her vision, as Katarina’s deft fingers continued to draw circles around her heat. She longed for a deeper stimulation, but the woman’s hands never went further than her outer lips.

Tossing the garment aside, Katarina heartily took hold of the neckline of the fabric, tugging it away and exposing Riven’s covered chest. As she had suspected, Riven was wearing a breast band that constricted the movement of her chest whilst in combat. Riven was brought back into the room as Katarina’s aggression left her clothes torn.

‘You still wear these?’ Katarina asked in a disapproving tone. Riven did not respond, more preoccupied with the redhead who had produced another knife and promptly used it to slice away the covering. Riven’s breasts came free and Katarina wasted no time in bringing one of her mounds to her mouth and taking a hardening nipple. Massaging the other breast, she flicked the girl’s nipple with her tongue, smiling as she felt Riven’s legs twitch under her attention. Riven sighed loudly, running her fingers back through Katarina’s crimson hair.

Sitting only in the panties on her bottom half, Riven laid back, allowing Katarina to pull the final article down her smooth legs and throw it over her shoulder. Riven lay completely naked bringing her thighs together to cover her eagerness with Katarina kneeling above her. She watched with interest as Katarina found her feet and stood upright, placing one leg on either side of the Exile on her back. Crossing her arms over either side of her body, Katarina took a hold of her leather bustier and slid it over her head. Her larger breasts fell free, spilling out and dropping to her chest.

Giving Riven barely any time to stare, she moved her hands to the waistband of her tight trousers and pulled them down, taking her spiked boots off in the process. Now with nothing covering her, Katarina threw her outfit aside to join Riven’s clothes on the floor.

Bared completely, the contact of their hot skin sent a thousand shots of bliss between them, combined with their tongues that once again became interlocked with another passionate kiss.

Katarina continued to be dominant, forcing Riven’s head back to the floor as she pulled herself on top of the Exile and pressed her firmly to the ground. Riven was willing to comply. She found a comfort in letting the walls that she had built around herself melt down. The hold of this fiery tempered Noxian was one she was able to let past the stoic mask everyone else saw. The hidden strength the assassin possessed excited her further. With Katarina straddling her, Riven dared to glide her hands up the Noxian’s warm middle, tracing the black tendrils of her tattoo that went from the edge of her waist and coiled around her left breast.

Before Riven’s hands were allowed to even graze the underside of Katarina’s mammary, she found her wrists caught in a powerful grip and pinned above the snowy mane of her hair. Katarina held Riven’s wrists together using only her left hand to keep them both in check. If Riven wanted to, she could quite easily break free and overpower the redhead, but she was content in letting herself be stuck below her. The view along Katarina’s pale flesh with her knees on either side of Riven’s waist was a sight enough to keep her from making any attempts at escape. All the way from the tucked lips of her womanhood up to the emerald of her eyes was a vista to behold.

‘Don’t you try and escape,’ Katarina growled, clearly enjoying the submissive nature of her partner.

‘Never,’ Riven whispered, her amber eyes beaming in a way Katarina had not seen for many years.

Ensuring that the warrior was pressed to the floor, Katarina shifted her weight and brought herself forwards until the apex of her thighs was only inches from Riven’s tempting mouth.

‘Do your job, exile,’ said Katarina, unceremoniously grinding her heat along Riven’s lips. The Exile opened her mouth to accept her task and he tongue darted out to run itself along the length of Katarina’s vulva. The packs of muscles hidden under the enticing skin of her stomach writhed under the pleasure brewing between her legs. Her tight form was wound like a bow ready to fire as Riven continued her ministrations. Her tongue reached deeper, finding her controlling lover’s clit, circling and flicking the nub. She had given up her attempts at teasing the redhead and began to dive in as deep as she could from her position.

The moans emitting from above rose in volume, the Noxian’s teeth biting down on her ruby lips to keep her from crying out. Her arms trembled as the pleasure tore through her, her grip slackening on Riven’s wrists. The Exile broke out, slapping Katarina’s hands away. They came around to wrap themselves around the ass cheeks atop her chest, squeezing the supple flesh in time with the lapping of her tongue. Katarina’s breath caught in her chest as she flung her head back like a bloody wave and howled out into the training room. A rush of fluid rushed from her vagina, coating Riven’s chin and wetting the floor.

Katarina had lost control. He whole body began to twitch and spasm as she fell forward. Her body slipped down Riven’s. Their breasts pillowed up as Katarina laid on top of her catching her breath, bringing her quivering hands up to cup the girl’s cheeks. Riven smirked as stared into the glazed green eyes in front of her. Katarina pressed her lips to her lover’s, tasting herself as she explored the corners of Riven’s mouth, feeling the tickle of Riven’s fingertips as they danced up her sides and rested around her back.

They paused for a moment as Katarina touched her forehead on Riven’s and allowed her tired body a moment to recover. Though the Exile was smaller than the Sinister Blade, she loved the fact that Riven was wrapping her in an affectionate cuddle.

‘You’re selfish,’ Riven whispered into her ear. Her tone held expectations behind it and Katarina’s lips angled up, knowing that Riven was yet to have any attention aimed her way.

‘Last time I checked, I didn’t even need to do anything to get you off,’ Katarina countered, raising her head from the crook of Riven’s shoulders.

‘Times have changed,’ the white-haired girl replied. She took a hold of Katarina’s hand that hung by her side, bringing it between her legs to feel the wetness seeping from her core. ‘This is a two-way deal, Kat.’

‘Is it now?’ the assassin replied. She lifted herself from the comfort of Riven’s skin touching her own, still with her hand pressed to Riven’s entrance. Katarina brought herself to her knees, sitting on her haunches. Riven glanced down to see what she was doing.

Her deft fingers were tracinh the outline of her labia, collecting up her essence. She brought it to her mouth, making a show for the girl of sliding her tongue along her moist fingers. The twinge in Riven’s vagina made her impatient as her face began to warp into a strained scowl.

Katarina was enjoying the look of restlessness on Riven’s face as she took her time. Feeling somewhat sorry for the horny girl, she brought her fingers back down the inside of her thighs and dipped them past her dripping lips. Riven groaned at the final penetration, tumbling into the electrifying sensations that shot into her core. Katarina sped up her fingers, curling them to graze the roof of the Exile’s walls at the peak of her thrust. Riven was melting under the desire, feeling her climax in reach for the first time that night. Just a little longer. Katarina continued to pump her two fingers in and out of her womanhood. Riven’s hands gripped Katarina’s arms in hopes of her sending her over the edge.

Suddenly, she was devoid of the feeling of the digits inside of her. Her orgasm began to slip away. Her pussy throbbed in the need for stimulation. When Riven looked up to see what Katarina was playing at, she found the assassin up and stood by the door, her leather attire hung on her fingertips over one shoulder.

‘What do you think you’re doing? I was so close!’ Riven wailed. Katarina grinned a sultry smile as she unbolted the training room door. ‘Where do you think you’re going?’ Riven asked.

‘If you want to cum Riven, you better follow me back to my room,’ said Katarina. ‘Think you can get there without anyone seeing?’

It was then that Riven noticed that amongst the black leather of Katarina’s clothes was the white of her own. The remnants of her Noxian armour were bundled in her grasp. Katarina took off, still naked into the Institute’s corridor.


	7. Vayne/Fiora - A Moment to Relax

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vayne/Fiora - F/F

**Vayne/Fiora - A Moment to Relax**

Vayne stalked her way through the Demacian streets, an unreadable expression on her face and her walk quick and with purpose. She had had enough of being summoned to settle petty squabbles, the national relationships were of no interest to her and she knew the only reason that they kept calling on her was that it was Demacian law to have all the noble houses involved. If they really cared, they would talk to her personally and not keep sending around some messenger to bother her staff.

Shauna of House Vayne was rarely seen within the walls of the large mansion her parents had owned, she was almost always off in pursuit of some shade of darkness that posed a threat to the people of her country, more so than any brutish Noxian ever would. Why could they not see that her work was important for the safety of the citizens and should not be interrupted? This _war_ the royal family was dreaming up was irrelevant and a waste of time and resources. The true war was against the dark.

She huffed making her way down and out of the parliament districts and back towards the area of the city where more of the aristocracy were housed. She had not been permitted to carry her crossbow in the halls of the Palace of Dawn, or any weapon for that matter, but it did not stop her from wearing her signature bodysuit and blood-red cape. She turned a corner as she began to stride down the last stretch of road towards the swimming baths. She slung her sports bag higher over one shoulder and carried on at a quicker pace.

The baths were almost always empty at this time of night, perfect for the less socially-inclined Night Hunter. While most would come here early to start the day, late at night the pools were only joined by the steam that rose from their hot waters and were likely one of the only peaceful places in the city.

Vayne did not make any attempt to engage the receptionist behind the desk at the baths, she knew that they were aware of who she was and that she was a regular here. Pushing the door open, she entered the changing rooms. The heat of the place was comforting to her, and even the though the steam obscured her vision, she knew her way around the lockers and changing rooms well enough.

Stepping into the same stall she always chose, Vayne slung her pack from her shoulder placing it down on the bench. She tugged on the zip of her body suit, pulling it down and freeing herself from the second skin of its spandex. She lay her modest one-piece black swim suit out on the bench and stripped herself of her undergarments. She pulled her swim suit up her legs and settled the straps on her shoulders, before exiting the changing room and bundling her possessions into a locker.

The waters looked perfectly inviting as she made her way into the pool itself. Wisps of steam rose towards the ceiling, and the surface of the water was beautifully sleek and undisturbed. She stepped down the ladder, feeling the warmth of the pool make its way up her legs with each step.

Vayne began her usual routine of powering through as many lengths of the pool as she could before she ran out of stamina. On her thirtieth run, she made it to the other end and decided to take a break. She huffed, as usually she would be able to manage many more before tiring, but the strain of the day’s activities in the council chamber had gotten the better of her. She rested with her elbows on the edge of the pool, letting her blue eyes close for a moment and her body relax. She idly drew circles with her feet in the deep water.

The sound of a door opening and closing at the far end of the pool broke her from her daydreams, and she could make out that a figure was moving amongst the steam by the entrance. Her heart sank at her loss of solitude, but felt she should only be polite and not hog the place entirely to herself. One person wouldn’t stop her from her exercise regime, there was plenty enough pool for the both of them.

As the figure moved through the steam, their stature became distinctly feminine to Vayne’s eyes, and appeared lithe and well-toned. A streak of pink shot through the black of their short hair, and their body was mostly uncovered aside from a white bikini. Over one shoulder, a midnight blue towel was draped. Vayne instantly recognised them, as it was someone she had spent most of the past few days sitting across a table from.

‘What a pleasure to see you, Night Hunter,’ said Fiora as she waltzed her way along the side of the pool. Her thick accent was iconic, and made Vayne’s title sound more like _Noight Huntugh._

‘Fiora,’ Vayne said in a tone of acknowledgement and a nod at the Demacian duellist. She was not in the mood for a conversation, let alone one with someone as difficult to talk to as Fiora.

‘I see you ‘ave had the same idea as me this evening,’ said Fiora, stepping into the water down the steps. Vayne was struck with the sudden thought of how shapely the woman’s figure was in her little covering. The white of her bikini did little to hide the flare of her hips and the fullness of her backside. While normally she was contained in fencing leathers with a rapier in her hand that was indeed form fitting, it did not reveal the full extent of her feminine form.

The duellist appeared to show no interest in swimming and simply dipped herself in the hot waters and relaxed back a few metres away from the Night Hunter.

‘So tell me, Shauna,’ Fiora began after a brief awkward silence. Vayne’s blue gaze reluctantly met the other woman’s, miffed that she was continuing to attempt to talk to her. ‘How are you finding these _négociations_ with the Noxians? It is all negligible squabbles with men no less than beasts as far as I am concerned.’

Vayne rose her eyebrows. ‘Amazingly, I am inclined to agree with you,’ she said. Fiora dipped her head in a surprised nod.

‘How fortunate. Perhaps we share more of the same than we realise,’ said Fiora, slowly sliding along the poolside to come to a stop at the Night Hunter’s side. Vayne was uncomfortable with her proximity, but made no attempt to stop her other than shooting her a slight icy stare. ‘Not a single moment to relax,’ Fiora said, laying her head back on the pool’s edge so that the water came up over her shoulders.  ‘Don’t you agree, Shauna?’ Her closeness meant that Fiora’s right arm was effectively around Vayne’s shoulders.

Vayne nodded. ‘Or work,’ she said.

‘Ah yes, that is right. Always working, always fighting the hordes of the undead. Does it not become tiresome and lonely the life of a demon hunter? You need some time to unwind.’

‘I was trying,’ Vayne muttered, turning away. Her gaze was quickly brought back however when she noticed out of the corner of her eye that Fiora was unlacing the strings of her white bikini top. Vayne’s cheeks flushed with heat and turned a shade of pink as the duellist pulled the white top piece over her head and casually tossed it behind her. Her full breasts were exposed just above the water line, the soft flesh topped with delicate pink nubs. Her chest was not as large as some, but her tight form left them pert and firm.

‘What do you think you are doing?’ Vayne said nervously as she shifted back in the water.

‘What? Do you not think a bath is the normal time to undress and let yourself be free?’ Fiora asked. ‘We are both women, aren’t we?’ She ran her hands over her breasts, soaking them in the water of the pool. Vayne couldn’t help but be entranced with the subtle bounce the movement caused. ‘Come on now, you cannot tell me that you find _this_ comfortable.’ Fiora’s hands came to grasp at Vayne’s swimsuit, not so unintentionally taking a grab at the Night Hunter’s modest tits.

‘Don’t you lay a finger on me,’ Vayne said firmly, turning away sharply and covering her hands across her chest. Fiora laughed.

‘Do not be a spoil sport Shauna, relax,’ Fiora said. Vayne shrieked as Fiora tugged the straps of her swimsuit down and over her chest, revealing the pale skin all the way to her waist. Instantly, Vayne’s hands shot back to cover her breasts from view. ‘This garment of yours looks like you just cut the sleeves and legs from your bodysuit.’

‘What on earth are you playing at, Fiora! Leave me be,’ Vayne spat. Her breath came out in a struggle, still in shock of what the duellist was doing. While Vayne attempted to pull the swimsuit back up, Fiora came to hold her around the waist, not allowing her free as Vayne struggled in her grip.

‘I said relax, woman,’ Fiora insisted, though her tone had fallen softer and more compassionate. Vayne wriggled in her hold, but was struck by the pleasant sensation of the woman’s larger breasts pressing against her still-crossed arms. ‘Let go.’ Fiora gently settled Vayne’s arms away from her chest and by her side. Shauna could feel her gaze upon her smaller breasts and toned stomach. The hint of hard abdominal muscles could be seen in her middle, framed by a generous waist. Fiora brought Vayne’s face around to look her in her blue eyes. She found the duellist’s gaze to be tinged with lust and stricken with a curiosity for her.

Before she could react, Fiora had pressed their lips together as her hands wandered down Vayne’s side, sliding over the still half-worn swimsuit that was around her waist. Vayne gasped silently and grew rigid at the kiss, but was overcome with the bliss of the sensation. It was a long time since she had been kissed, let alone held in any heartfelt manner. Fiora’s hands grasped the toned flesh of Vayne’s rear. She eventually pulled back, breaking the connection at their lips.

‘Are you calm now?’ Fiora asked quietly. Vayne gave a small nod. ‘Good.’ Fiora took her by the hand and led her back into the shallows of the pool. She settled the Night Hunter down onto the sloping poolside, where the water was only a few inches deep, smiling at the fact the hunter was no longer trying to stop her, but actively allowing herself to be led. Vayne sat back, propping herself up on her hands and watching the duellist that was crawling up between her knees. Fiora pressed her lips to the warm skin of Vayne’s mid section, grazing her tongue along the pits and falls of her muscles. Vayne’s hand came to tangle in the red-streaked hair on Fiora’s head as the swordsman reached the fabric that was holding loosely to the Night Hunter’s waist. Fiora looked up to ask for silent permission. Vayne gave a small nod.

Fiora’s deft fingers slipped into the swimsuit, and Vayne rose her hips to allow it to slide down her legs. She was only granted a moment to lament the loss of the final piece that covered her from nakedness, but her attention was quickly diverted as Fiora’s face glided up the length of her thighs, kissing and nibbling as she went.

When she reached the apex of her legs, Fiora’s tongue met the aching arousal of her heat. Wet from both the warmth that settled in her core and from the pool around them, Vayne’s womanhood was perfectly cute to her and topped with a strip of black on her mound. When Fiora’s ministrations met her slit, a heavy breath left Vayne’s lungs, joined with a drawn gasp as she bit her lip tightly to stop her from crying out. Still with her finger’s losing themselves in the raven tresses of Fiora’s hair, she felt the duellist’s hands continue up her body to massage her breasts and tease her nipples. Her tongue continued to lap at her folds and threaten to send her over the edge. Her lack of sexual attention over the many years of her solitary career left her stamina quickly running out with Fiora’s talented sucking and licking of her slit.

The sheepish face of the duellist emerged from between Vayne’s legs, though her bleary eyes and dizzied mind seemed more occupied with the sensations still running along every inch of her body. Fiora rose up to kiss the Night Hunter once more, and with her mouth locked to her partner’s, she felt the white bikini bottoms be slipped down her legs. She freed herself from them, exposing herself in her entirety to Vayne. She could see how the Night Hunter was ogling the womanly curves of her body, all the way from her supple breasts to the flare of her hips and the tidy area between her legs.

Vayne brought herself to embrace the duellist, as their legs became tangled together in their love making. Their thighs met, bringing the wet heat of their sexes to meet in a kiss. Vayne began to grind her hips along the crest of Fiora’s vagina, causing the woman to cry out in a more boisterous display of her pleasure. They both moved to meet the other’s thrusts, as every time the folds of Vayne’s womanhood traced the length of Fiora’s, she was graced with pure sensations of joy.

Their hands linked, lacing their fingers together as they increased their speed, the waters of the pool sloshing around them. Vayne was close and had no intention of holding back. Her thrusts became a blur as she felt herself reach her peak and sighed deeply. She fell back, released from their hold as Fiora came to fall on top of her, the red flash in her hair tickling the flesh of Vayne’s breasts. With ragged breathing filling the air, Vayne’s wound muscles finally relaxed.

‘I think you needed that,’ Fiora panted.

‘You have no idea,’ Vayne breathed back.


	8. Caitlyn - Overworked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caitlyn/Jayce - M/F

**Caitlyn - Overworked**

_PILTOVER KILLER DEATH TOLL RISES TO FIFTEEN. NO STATEMENT RELEASED FROM POLICE UNITS._

Caitlyn set the newspaper down on her desk with a huff, looking over the day’s disappointing headline. Below it, the main article showed a gruesome picture of a fallen body, laying in a puddle of blood accompanied by another defeatist caption. She shoved the paper aside, choosing not to let the pressure of the media get to her too much. It was not normally something that worried her, but she quickly realised that in the past every case she had ever sought to close had been done so quickly and efficiently, before some budding reporter had the chance to write any lie-ridden stories. She had never given them a reason to criticise her. Her name was known throughout the city as the greatest detective there had ever been, so why couldn’t she even begin to solve this case? Why didn’t she have a single lead to work with?

She sat back in her chair, noticing that she had left her cup of tea to go cold. Staring up at the wall of her study, she glanced over the many pictures of the mysterious killer’s victims, hoping to find some sort of similarity or common ground between the deaths. Every one of their dead faces seemed to stare back at her, longing for an answer to their abrupt ending. They were all fairly average people. Some were wealthy and noble from the upper districts of the city, while others were street rats and criminals roaming the alleys and tunnels in the underground. Some were male, some female and all of their ages were different. There was nothing out of the norm about them, or any connection between them. Any person could have chosen a random group of Piltover’s citizens to murder, but there had to be a motivation behind it.

She stood up, flattening her violet dress out and adjusting her hat. She pulled the first photo off the board, staring more closely to try and identify what exactly was the cause of death. The body in the photo was completely unharmed on the outside. Not a single noticeable scratch or physical wound of any kind. But like all the other victims, the body had bled out from every point possible, leaving their skin cold and blue. It was obvious from the diagnostic that the cause of death was internal, but what could have caused something that devastating from within? Only an autopsy would tell, but those results were not due for another week. She had to find something quick before any more deaths were recorded.

Caitlyn thought to her work partner, Vi. The brash and loud-mouthed woman was away on business for more than a month and not on the mainland. Even if Caitlyn was to call for her immediate assistance, it was unlikely she’d be back in the city any quicker than the autopsy results. Jayce had been passing by with new inventions that he thought may aid her in a discovery, and he had been keeping her company during the long hours of the many interrogations she had to conduct. He’d been in his workshop this afternoon, determined to make a breakthrough.

Caitlyn woke up with her face planted on her desk. She pulled her head up and groggily looked around the room. The light had gone from the windows and only a black sky dusted with stars looked in on her from outside. The ticking clock above her desk read a quarter past one in the morning. She sighed deeply, looking drearily at the stacks of papers and photographs littering her desk.

A click resounded from her front door, followed by the sound of it being opened and closed. She knew it could only be Jayce, he was the only one who had a key to her place, other than Vi, and she wouldn’t be back so soon without messaging on ahead. She heard him walk softly down her hallway, obviously trying to be as quiet as possible in case she had decided to call it a night.

‘It’s alright, Jayce,’ she called out. ‘I’m still up.’

‘Oh,’ she heard his smooth voice say as the footsteps grew louder. He emerged into her study, noticing her still slumped at her desk. ‘Why am I not surprised to see you still awake?’ he said with a smile. She returned one of her own, albeit weaker.

‘The case doesn’t sleep, Jayce. These people aren’t going have any rest in death unless I bring the killer to justice,’ said Caitlyn. She took off her purple top hat and ran a hand through her long hair. ‘I was hoping to have at least something to show at the police meeting tomorrow. We’re supposed to be issuing a statement by the end of the week,’ she said. He stepped up behind her shoulder, leaning over her and looking at the photographs. She could smell his usual aftershave on his skin, fragrant, but distinctly masculine.

‘Strange set of deaths, aren’t they? Until we have anything back from the labs I don’t think we can get anywhere on our own. Definitely not tonight anyway,’ said Jayce. She looked disappointed. ‘By the end of the week they said, just remember that. We’ve still got time,’ he assured her. He stood back up, giving her a pat on her shoulder. The skin left exposed by her low-cut dress enjoyed the sensation of his touch. She rubbed her fingers over her eyes to try and remove the tiredness from them. ‘And enough time for you to have a decent sleep,’ Jayce said. She gave a flap of her hand.

‘I’m fine,’ she said flatly, but before she could even finish the words, she was consumed by a long drawn-out yawn. He chuckled.

‘Looks like it,’ he smiled. ‘Come on, sleep now. Call it a night,’ he said, gently spinning her office chair away from the desk. She tried to move it back around.

‘No, I’m close to finding something. Just need a little more time. The trail’s still hot, Jayce,’ she said. ‘Another cup of tea would sort me out.’

‘Nope, not allowing it. I’m not leaving here until you’re away from this work and on your way to bed. Come on, time to stop.’ This time Jayce put his hands on both her shoulders and wheeled her chair away from the desk. Her body slumped and she gave in to her exhaustion, letting out another yawn. ‘There, you look better already,’ he said, now that she was facing away. ‘Can I leave you if you promise to get some rest and stop worrying about this case?’

She turned quickly and her hand shot to his that were now rested on the back of her chair. She clutched to him tightly and looked him in his pale blue eyes. ‘Stay here,’ was all she said as she slowly stood up, still with her hand around his. ‘For the night I…don’t think I’ll sleep otherwise.’ Her tone was soft and almost pleading, sounding if the statement was difficult for her to admit. Her violet eyes had softened and did not look away from his face. He blinked a few times. ‘Yes, I know I’m exhausted. But I’d never allow myself a wink if I keep thinking about this,’ she said.

‘Oh um…I mean, sure,’ he said. ‘I can sleep on the floor or—’ She interrupted him by standing up as straight as she could and flattening her body to his. She took his other hand in hers, feeling his warmth. She still gazed at him with longing though now it had been tinged with a certain heat. He looked suddenly a little unsure, uncharacteristic of how she knew him to be, the charisma he brought to every situation suddenly lost.

‘I said stay with _me_ ,’ she said coyly. ‘I’m not on the floor, Jayce.’ Her words sounded final as if she was not to be argued with. She pressed herself to him, the swell of her breasts grazing his chest. She rose to her tip-toes in her boots to reach his face. His gaze wandered to the glint of moisture on her lips before flicking back to the vibrancy of her eyes. His hands settled on her waist as she pressed their faces together, their lips tentatively meeting in a gentle kiss. She sank deeply into their embrace as she reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck. Her passion grew more fervent as she allowed their tongues to mingle. Jayce was an attractive man with a kind heart, and she could not lie to herself and say that she had not imagined this moment happening before.

A shiver of pleasure shot up her spine as his hands sank lower, tangling in the frills of her purple dress and wrapping around the shape of her rear. She sighed deeply into another round of their duelling lips, bringing her slender fingers up to lose themselves in the chestnut of his short hair.

He shuffled off his long fur coat as he spun her around and pressed her back to the wall by the window. Outside, a drizzle of a fine rain had begun to fall against the light of the oil lamps in the streets of Piltover. She could feel the chill of winter on her side by the window as she was up against the wall. His hands gripped her thighs and lifted her off her feet. His waist settled in her open legs as she wrapped them around his middle and held on tightly. Her hands still clung to his neck as they continued to kiss with passion. She felt her dress be hiked up her thighs as his touch met her bare skin and brushed against the lace of her panties.

In the briefest moment where their lips were no longer locked, he breathed her name ‘Cait…’ She stopped to lightly kiss his cheek and run a finger along the stubble on his jaw.

‘I think I’m ready to go to bed now,’ she said. ‘You’ve convinced me.’

‘Like me to carry you, my lady?’ he asked with a charming smile. She finally let out a contented laugh.

‘That would be perfect.’

He gripped her more tightly, supporting her back as he marched her across the room in his arms, out of the study and into her bedroom. The magenta covers of her bed were perfectly uncreased and smooth, ready for them to crash down on its soft sheets. The lamp by her bedside burned with the flicker of a candle, bathing the room in a mellow orange glow.

Caitlyn felt her back hit the bed and her head fall onto her pillow. She kicked off her boots and made herself comfortable. Jayce had pulled his shirt over his head and leant over her, tucking his arms under her shoulders and nibbling at her pale neck. He trailed kisses along her collar bone, and down to her chest. Tugging at the ruffles of lace that lined her dress at the chest, he pulled the material down to reveal her milky breasts. They stood at attention as he teased the peak of her right breast with his mouth and massaged the left in his palm. She was wonderfully warm to the touch and the breaths that hitched in her throat was all the indication he needed to carry on. She let him continue to service her breasts, before sitting up and pulling her dress over her head, tossing it to the side. Rising to his knees, he was granted with the sight of her left only in her white lace panties.

She brought herself up to meet him, engaging in another feverish kiss. He took her breast in his grip, squeezing the soft flesh and pinching her nipple between his fingers. He nipped, sucked and licked all over her body to appreciate every inch of her curves, every last rise and fall. His belt came loose, trousers slipping off his legs along with his underwear. He pushed them off as he brought her panties down the length of her smooth legs. Her womanhood glistened in the low light, crowned by dark hair that matched the long tresses cascading down her back.

She squealed, muffled by the finger between her teeth as Jayce began to draw circles around the inside of her thighs. He collected up her wetness before testing her entry, pressing two fingers slowly into her heat. Her feminine stomach wound up as her muscles tightened and she twitched with pleasure as his fingers rubbed along her inner walls. He silenced her cries with a kiss as he built some speed within her. Her carnal bliss heightened with every push of his marvellous fingers and her dainty hand gripped his wrist hard. She did not want him to ever stop, the stress of her job began to seep from her like the fluid from her eager slit.

She was left empty of feeling for a moment as he withdrew, but soon felt the definite shape of his manhood at her entrance. She fell back hard onto the sheets, bringing Jayce on top of her. She clutched him tightly, his skin covered by a thin film of sweat in their lovemaking. She kissed his forehead tenderly as below he angled himself and pushed into her. Their lips met again as she slowly withdrew and thrust in again. He was gentle with her, easing himself in and out as he kissed her lips with affection. She took his bottom lip in her teeth, nibbling at his mouth with ever moan of joy that left her.

The heat of her vagina caused his head to swim, but he continued his delicate rhythm, concerned only with her pleasure. He knew in his head that she had likely not experienced the touch of a man for some time, and as she was so consumed by her job on a daily basis, likely hadn’t ever devoted much time to pursue romantic interests. She was selfless in her dedication to the police force that she was willing to neglect her own needs. He did feel privileged that she trusted him enough to allow him to bed her and share in this moment with her. He looked over her face, finding it more beautiful than ever before. Her pale skin, sculpted features and luscious lips. Her eyes were half-lidded and weary, but the smile on her lips told him that she was happy.

Caitlyn tugged him over, so they became lost in the sheets of her bed. They tumbled and tangled, still with him inside her, before settling on their sides with the covers wrapped around them. The fit together like spoons, the curve of her ass sitting in his waist, allowing his length to continue its course in her nethers. Jayce continued to thrust into her, his palm trailing up her slender waist and down between her legs. He found her clit, massaging it with slow circles in time with his waist meeting her hips. She groaned louder and with more passion as his thrusts became harder, more forceful and his breaths more ragged. She screamed as she reached her peak, the contractions in her womanhood pushing him over the edge. His seed spilt within her, filling her with his warmth and pooling in her core. He groaned as his cock shot into her and he gripped her naked body hard.

Caitlyn didn’t remember falling asleep. The white light of a new day beamed into her bedroom, sending rays of sun across her bedsheets. It illuminated the two shapes in the bed, and she became aware of the warmth at her back and the strong arms holding her intimately around the waist. Jayce still slept soundly, and every breath he took tickled her ear. She was warm and felt happier than she had been for as long as she could remember. Her thoughts then hit the brick wall of the unsolvable case that still plagued her and sat upon her desk. The passionate night with Jayce had alleviated her worries for a few hours and allowed her to sleep soundly, but it had not gone. The photographs of the murdered bloody victims flashed in her mind. No mar or cut on their skin, but dead as one could be.

Her eyes suddenly widened. The pieces fell into place. She threw the bedcovers over herself, freeing herself from Jayce’s loving embrace. He woke up at her sudden movement, groaning and opening his bleary eyes.

‘…What’s up?’ he asked groggily as he rubbed his eyes. She was stood up by the wall, still naked from sleeping with him as she pulled her nightgown over her shoulders.

‘I’ve worked it out. I know what killed those people. I’ve got to get to the police station.’

‘Planning on dressing first?’ he shouted as she rushed out of the room and down the hall.


	9. LeBlanc - Clandestine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While retiring to his bedchambers, Jarvan encounters an unwelcome guest in the halls of the Demacian palace.

**Clandestine**

Jarvan Lightshield—the fourth son of his house and crown prince of the Demacian monarchy—wanted to go to bed.

He had been fighting a losing battle amongst the councillors of his assembly who were endlessly arguing the pressures of the opposing nations on the brink of war. Since the dawn had risen in the east, their shouts could be heard from the inner chambers, and now while the moon settled high in the sky, their heated debate was still yet to come to a close. 

Noxus had been doing strange things. Scouts had been spotted in neutral territories, draped in black leather with crimson trim and bearing the insignia of the Noxian wings on their shoulders. Vast squadrons of marching patrols had crossed the Howling Marsh and threatened to step over the Demacian border. But—as Jarvan had noted several times—they never did. Their distance was kept, their intentions unapparent.

The king’s son had spent many days within the walls of the Demacian council chambers, trying to convince the officials of his parliament that Noxus was not preparing an assault on their people, but with little success. Considering the history that the two countries had, it was not surprising to the young prince that they thought the way they did, but he had hoped the governors would open their minds a little more and not fall back on past prejudices.

Jarvan had concluded his part in the session in the early hours of the morning, stepping out in the faint pale glow of a winter’s night. Many previous evenings had gone in a similar fashion until the sun had risen, but the Lightshield son had decided that tonight would not follow in that trend. He left them alone to their passionate exchanges of words and made his way to his bed chambers.

He ascended the stairs with his most trusted guard on his heels. First Lieutenant Feran was dressed in his light armour, the attire usually worn for skirmishing and training. Light leather and ringmail, far less cumbersome than the top-heavy gold plate of the Vanguard. It was uncommon for him still to be in his day dress at this time, but considering the length of the day’s events, Jarvan did not find it strange.

‘Any progress with the council, your Grace?’ Feran asked as they walked.

Jarvan sighed. ‘Not as such, Lieutenant. I pray for a day when we all come to a unanimous decision without resorting to shouting at one another,’ said Jarvan. His words were drawn and his posture was hunched. ‘I will continue to dream.’

‘I know, Sir. I don’t even think Noxus had anything in their plans concerning us. Probably just some show of power,’ Feran said as he came to the door of the prince’s chambers. He fumbled with the set of keys on his belt. ‘You know how they are. Always trying to show off their principles of strength. Vision, Might and Guile and all that.’

‘You seem to know your Noxian culture, Feran,’ said Jarvan. ‘As for this meaningless debate, I’m not even sure anymore. We’ll just have to remain steadfast and protect ourselves.’

They reached his chambers and Jarvan watched as the Lieutenant played with the many keys on the ring, trying several in the lock before bringing them up to the torchlight to inspect them more closely.

‘It’s the gold one with the sort of dent in the top,’ Jarvan said, leaning over to assist the man. Feran continued to fumble as he looked at each key in turn. ‘That one,’ said Jarvan with a point of his hand.

‘Oh, forgive me, your Grace. Long day,’ said Feran with a nervous laugh. He pushed the correct key into the keyhole and opened the door. Feran went in with Jarvan trailing behind. Normally the lieutenant would have allowed the prince inside first, but Jarvan was too tired to care.

The prince made straight for the bathroom, intending to have a wash before retiring to his bed and forgetting the day. Feran began to wander, looking upon the surface of the dressers, inspecting the large bed in the centre of the plush room, studying the prince’s night table, checking under the bed. Jarvan emerged from his ensuite bathroom, his shirt removed and draped over his shoulder.

‘Everything alright, Feran?’ he asked, watching the man’s odd behaviour. Feran looked up quickly.

‘Yes, Sir. Just ensuring your room was clean and that your maids were doing their job. Wouldn’t want you to live in squalor, my Lord.’

‘I see.’

Jarvan went back to washing, running the tap and splashing some water over his face. Feran continued to speak from his bedroom.

‘I would recommend better staff, your Grace. They are not satisfactory,’ said Feran’s muffled voice. Jarvan could hear more muddling from the adjacent room, sounding as if the lieutenant was going through his drawers.

When Jarvan came to investigate just what the man was up to, he found him with his back turned to the prince, facing towards the one window in the room. He appeared to be staring out into the night.

‘Typical,’ Feran said. Jarvan only had a view of the rough cut of his brown hair and the back of the soldier’s armour. ‘Exactly how I expected a poncey Demacian prince to live. Pampered and waited on hand and foot.’ Feran’s tone had changed. It held to it a certain haughtiness uncommon of the loyal guard. He spat the words and with them, his voice seemed to crack as if he was becoming a young lad once more.

‘Excuse me? Feran, are you alright?’ the prince asked. Feran did not turn around.

‘It truly is appalling how your people worship you like some sort of god. Let me bring you down from your pedestal, boy.’

The words were now not even in Feran’s voice. A silky effeminate charm had replaced the soldier’s usual gruff, but polite way of speaking. Smooth, coy and alluring, Jarvan knew the voice to mean he had fallen for a trick. A flush spread across his cheeks as he realised his missight.

An aura of purple mist began to gather around the man’s body, whirling into a tornado of magenta with flecks of imbued gold. As the magical swirl began to lift its way towards the sky, Feran’s figure began to warp as it was revealed under the mass of the arcane glow. Firstly, a pair of gilded high-heeled shoes appeared, replacing the robust military boots. They then led up to slender legs with the left covered by a length of gold-trimmed fabric.

Passing the waistline, a distinctly feminine stomach and hips warped into reality from the mist. Tangled in strands of a form-fitting leotard, a large pair of perfectly sculpted breasts barely contained in their clothing met Jarvan’s eyes as the illusionist turned around, her magic falling back to reality.

Jarvan knew the face, the curtains of draping purple hair, the golden eyes complete with sharp pointed tattoos down her cheeks, the mischievous smile revealing pearly white teeth.

Noxus’s matron of deception, LeBlanc.

Jarvan was about to shout and call for his King’s Guard. He went for the door with intent of bellowing down the hall for them to come and throw this woman in the darkest of the Palace of Dawn’s dungeons. Noxus would answer for their spies. But before he had a chance to move, LeBlanc had raised her palm, puffing out her cheeks at his hasty reaction.

‘Oh, don’t let me stop you. Call for your little toy soldiers to take me away. Drag me with my heels scraping across the floor,’ she laughed a girlish giggle. ‘But let me ask you this, my little princeling,’ she said, strutting over to him. He remained rooted in place as she advanced on him, her golden eyes never leaving his own. She draped an arm around his bare shoulder and whispered in his ear. ‘Who do you think you can trust, hm? Feran was a loyal servant, wasn’t he? What did he turn out to be?’

She took a step back, unlacing herself from his shoulders. She traced her eyes up and down his muscled form, enjoying the sight of the Demacian prince’s bare skin. His chest and abdominals were tight and hard, honed by military drills and combat experience. Scars littered areas of his chest like an artist’s brushstrokes on a canvas. Battle hardened, but still in keeping with his handsome, youthful features.

‘What is the meaning of this? What do you think you are doing here?’ said Jarvan. LeBlanc sighed and idly inspected her manicured nails.

‘Practicing my illusions up until a few moments ago. I fear that while my ability to replicate a body in magic is unparalleled, my capability to act the part lets me down. I am a mage after all, not a thespian.’

‘I won’t let you leave here with whatever information you have spied on,’ he said with authority in his tone and his fingers clenching into a fist. ‘Noxus will take nothing from us.’

She rolled her eyes, idly twirling a lock of dark hair around a slender finger. ‘Cease that, you empty-headed oaf. I have absolutely no interest in discovering how disorganised your little country is. I’m well aware of that already. If that was my intention, I would not have revealed myself to you so easily. I would be half way back to Noxus by now with my arms filled with all the intelligence I could hold and my mind overflowing with your best kept secrets.’

Jarvan breathed heavily and went to grab at the woman, to restrain her and throw her into a cell himself. But as his hands went to take hold of her arms, he found they went straight through her, as if she were only made of light. A trail of gold particles followed his hands as he took hold of nothing but air. The ghost of the woman in front of him smiled cheekily with a wink, before puffing into a cloud of yellow smoke and disappearing entirely.

Jarvan’s eyes dashed around in shock. He straightened his back as the same arms were draped around his neck from behind, sinking down his pectorals. He felt her hair tickle his cheek, and her voice sang into his ear once again. ‘Tricky, aren’t you? Are you sure you know what you are doing, little prince?’

He found the deceiver’s games rather unnerving. He would not let her make him powerless while still on Demacian soil. She was in  _his_  chambers he reminded himself, she was the vulnerable one here. He tried to hold his resolve. She circled him, coming to stop in front of him once more. He couldn’t be sure this version was not another fake.

‘Why are you here, witch?’ he asked through clenched teeth. LeBlanc’s dainty hand came up to cover her mouth in feigned shock.

‘Witch? How dare you! I am a practiced and respected sorceress, not an eater of children!’ she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Her smile broke back through on her painted lips. Jarvan looked unimpressed. ‘I’m here for the same reason you retired to your bedchambers early this evening. To escape from the roaring matches echoing around the council rooms. I tell you, both our nations are a mess of unfounded accusations. I could not stand another day in the halls of the Immortal Bastion, I had to find some escape.’

‘So you came here?’ Jarvan enquired with a raise of a black-eye brow. ‘That makes no sense to me. You knew the exact same situation would meet you here as well, only with the added threat of being discovered.’

‘That I did, but perhaps the thought was that here I could exercise my magic in some productive way. I care not for politics, especially not these petty squabbles. I leave that to the men pushing little figures along a map. Here I might be able to confide in someone drowning in diplomacy just like I was, and a little danger is always welcomed.’

LeBlanc began to trail her fingertips up Jarvan’s arms, gliding up the pit and falls of his muscled forearm and bicep. She gave a seductive flutter of her purple eyelids and casually nibbled the corner of her bottom lip between her teeth.

Jarvan could not deny that he found the gesture attractive and incredibly appealing. LeBlanc held to her a Noxian level of allure, so vastly different to that of any reserved Demacian woman. The attire that accentuated and flaunted her form and her proud attitude was something he was not accustomed to, but found it set a fire in his stomach.

‘What do you think you are doing?’ Jarvan asked, though his words did not sound as if he disapproved of any of her advances, more a mischievous flirtatious tone.

‘How about you help me forget all the bureaucracy and national regulations and show me a night of fun without prejudices? Or perhaps simply exude your frustrations onto me,’ she said as her fingers threatened to wander lower beyond the waistband of his bottoms.

‘What are you saying?’ he asked with a stutter as he visibly twitched from her movements. She pulled her hand away roughly before frowning at him with a pout.

‘Are you an oblivious prince?’ she chided at his stupid questions. ‘I’m asking you in all good graces to bed me with no consequences of our positions and not a word sent back to our superiors. Or if that does not suit your noble Demacian persona…’ she leant up into his ear again, draping her arms over his shoulders, ‘I’ll let you fuck me like you hate me.’

He took the briefest moment to study the wanton glint in her beautiful eyes, flushed with golden fire that silently persuaded him to forget his name and position, drop his clothes and tangle with her in his sheets.

Her eyes shot her seductions his way with another flutter of violet eyelashes as she pulled him towards his bed. ‘Lay down Jarvan, and I might persuade you to quicken your decision. Let me show you the possibilities of magic,’ she giggled again. He slowly gave in and allowed himself to be pushed backwards, his top half hitting the soft sheets of the side of his bed, while his legs were still touching the floor. She settled down between his parted knees, running an eager hand up and down the inside of his thighs. Her dark cloak pooled around her legs. She kept her mischievous grin spread across her lips, bright eyes never leaving his.

‘Show me what a Noxian can do then. If I am to have you in my bed, you better pull your weight,’ he said firmly from low in his throat. She seemed to like that. She rose a purple eyebrow as she tucked her fingers his remaining clothes and began to pull them down his muscular legs.

‘Of course. Now let me see the tools I have to work with first,’ she cooed. The look of surprise as his length was bared to her was coupled with another giggle. ‘My my, aren’t I lucky.’

Jarvan was more inclined to believe he was the lucky one at this moment. Although, as the deceiver took a hold of his manhood and began to slowly work it in her grip, a flicker of doubt crossed his mind. This was  _wrong_ , she was his enemy. What if this was discovered? She was an infamous confidant from the nation that his family had opposed for centuries. What was he doing? If his father ever heard a word of—

The anxious thoughts were quickly silenced as he felt the warmth and wetness of her mouth on him. On her knees, LeBlanc’s tongue had traced the length of his cock from shaft to tip and was lingering around the head of him, circling his tip with a swirl of saliva. His head fell back onto the sheet and he let out a deep groan of satisfaction.

She took him fully within her mouth, allowing as much of his cock to be engulfed in the dizzying heat. She began to slide slowly back and forth, the peak of the movement causing his length to tease the entrance to her throat. She did not gag or show any sign of discomfort and expertly sucked at him. Releasing him with a small pop and a smack of her lips she chuckled as she saw him laying back breathlessly on his bed.

‘Is this all it takes to defeat you?’ she taunted with her hand still gripping his cock. He sat up straight, quickly holding her around the neck as he pressed his mouth to the painted magenta of her lips. Her eyes widened, finding the kiss all but out of his masculine character. She allowed his tongue to mingle with her own, feeling him clumping up some of her dark hair into his hand and clutching her tightly.

‘Defeat me?’ he said as he broke away from her with a trail still lingering between their lips. ‘You’ll be the one begging me to finish you before too long.’ She smiled at that.

‘Is that so?’ She tightened her fingers around his throbbing shaft, leaning down and plunging his length deep into her throat. His hand still had not left her head as she worked him deeply in her mouth, tongue swilling over the head and lathering the sides in her spit. His pleasure threatened to overcome him. He wanted nothing more at that moment than to cum down the Noxian’s throat. She felt it too as his moans rose and his breaths grew ragged, but before his cock could swell any further, she removed him from the warmth of her mouth and clamped her hand around him. Any sensation of an impending climax was instantly cut off as her nails threatening to dig into the flesh of his member. Her grip was so tight it was painful. He lamented the loss of his orgasm and the chance to cum down this infamous femme’s throat, looking up at her with an accusatory bear of his teeth.

‘Don’t you dare cum so soon, boy,’ she growled. ‘You have more yet to answer for.’

‘And you wouldn’t want to leave me unsatisfied,’ the same silky voice came again, but this time it was above him, not from the floor. He opened his eyes to find LeBlanc leaning over him, laying casually on her side on his bed. But how had she gotten there so quickly? He looked back down, finding the woman who moments ago been sucking his cock was still on her knees with a mischievous grin on her face at his obvious confusion. He looked quickly between the two bodies now in his room, eyes darting between them.

_Two_ , he thought.  _Just think of the—_

‘Possibilities,’ she breathed coyly, echoing her words from earlier. Using his bare thighs as support she lifted herself up and straddled him. The other LeBlanc—who he now knew to be a clone—ran her hands over his chest from above, massaging the strong muscles of his chest. The glossy hair reached to the bottom of her feminine jaw, a deep wine colour matching her lipstick. She felt every bit as real as her original, no evidence of foul magic on the surface of her porcelain skin. There was a lust in this new LeBlanc’s eyes, different from that of her counter-part. He quickly darted forward, pressing his lips to the deep purple colouring on hers, and holding her around the neck with his hand.

Meanwhile, the original LeBlanc had her knees over either side his groin and began to grind her hips in circles. The pressure on his cock was powerful as it slipped in and out between her legs and he could feel the mould of her sex through the thin material of her leotard. She planted her hands on his chest and gazed down at him, bringing his eyes away from her double and locked them to her own original golden stare.

‘Watch closely, princeling,’ she purred into his ear. ‘And whatever you do…’ She took a hold of her dark gilded cloak in one hand and whipped it across her entire body so that for a split second she was completely concealed by the fabric. Before he had a chance to consider what she was doing, the cloak had revealed her again. But now, she was completely naked. ‘…don’t blink.’

His jaw had fallen opened as he ogled every inch of her luscious bare skin. His mind was still lost considering whether his eyes had deceived him, but as he ran his hands up the smoothness of her pink thighs, he knew that this was no illusion. She was warm to the touch and her skin was sleek as silk. No woman he had ever taken to his bed had ever possessed a level of perfection quite like LeBlanc. She sat up straight, pressing the fullness of her round ass onto his painfully erect cock. Bared to him, he felt the hint of moisture from the lips that his length was now caught between. She shifted her weight back, letting his member spring out from beneath her and stand upright. He was as hard as he could be, his manhood silently pleading for satisfaction. She took a hold of him, nuzzling the head against her silky womanhood before settling it inside her.

‘Show me what you can do, Demacian,’ she said as she let out a strained breath, watching his eyes still washing over her beautiful form. She bit her bottom lip as she sank to the hilt. ‘How does it feel?’ Jarvan’s reply came in the form of a rough moan as his muscles unwound, falling deeply into the pleasure of her tight walls of her core and letting her ride him with passion. ‘Not every day you find yourself with the cunt of a Noxian around your cock.’

‘You’re not dismissed from service, soldier,’ the other LeBlanc cooed into his ear. He opened his eyes from the overwhelming lust he had drifted into, finding the clone sat above his head, just as naked as her mistress. A pussy identical to the one his cock was being squeezed by lay a couple of inches from his head, and as she pressed it to his face, forcing his mouth onto her eager folds. Her deceptively strong thighs clamped around his head, as she rubbed herself along the rough wetness of his tongue, grinding along him like he was her own personal toy. The clone moaned as she bucked her hips on his face, taking one of her sculpted breasts and gripping it tightly. He grunted something from underneath her, vibrations from his mouth rubbing along the sensitive skin of her folds.

The original of the two let Jarvan’s cock slip from her inner warmth, pushing his muscular body off of the end of the bed so that his head hit the plush royal blue of his pillows. The clone regretfully pulled herself from grinding her slit on over his face and laid over his left side, the original taking his right. Their breasts draped over his obliques, legs tangling with his own. Manicured fingers began to walk their purple nails up his naked torso, toying with him and making him jolt as they grazed certain sensitive spots.

‘The prince is ticklish?’ the LeBlanc on his left asked.

‘As if some Noxian like you could make me twitch,’ he replied, gazing into the golden eyes by his side, his arms tucking around both the illusive women’s shoulders and holding them tight.

‘Rather more than twitching going on down here,’ the other said, her hands wandering down to his eager cock that had not lost any of its hardness. The head was dripping with the wetness of it’s earlier ploy. A hand came to tease his balls, both gentle and firm as she massaged and rolled them in her soft hands.

‘We must have you ready, Jarvan. There’s a job for you to complete,’ LeBlanc said as she sat up, leaning over his cock and taking it back in her hot mouth for another round of her dexterous tongue. The other came to join, meeting her mistress’s movements with delicate licks and nibbles of her own, all the while toying with his balls.

The two LeBlancs fought each other for dominance over his shaft, each running their tongues along either side to meet at his head. They inadvertently met each other’s lips with a kiss, his cock caught between them. Two pairs of enrapturing golden eyes looked up at him as the original took him into her throat, while the clone firmly gripped his length.

Sitting on her haunches and pulling her mouth from his member, LeBlanc turned away, giving a wiggle of her sizeable ass as she moved around on the bed. Her cheek hit the softness of the Demacian’s bedsheets, still on her knees and sticking her ass up into the air. The clone came to assist, taking a hold of each of her ass cheeks and spreading them to reveal the wetness of her heat between them. Jarvan wasted no time in rising to his knees and joining the clone’s hands on her ass.

The clone teased the supple skin of her mistress’ rear, spreading the delicate lips of her flower in an undeniable invitation, granting Jarvan all the permission he needed to embed his cock deep in her cunt. As he lined himself to take her, the clone raised a finger.

‘You only get to cum when the mistress allows it, understood?’ she said. Jarvan nodded dumbly. At this point, with his member barely in contact with her folds, he would have agreed to any conditions, no matter how ridiculous. He would have renounced his claim to the Demacian throne for all he cared.

Before her finger had even had a chance to fall, Jarvan’s hands were leaving grooves in LeBlanc’s ass as he grabbed her roughly around the middle. His cock found its mark. She groaned as he pushed deep, and deeper again. She took the bedsheets between her teeth and clumped in her grip, stopping her from crying out as his pace increased to near relentlessness. Her thighs were pressed together, tightening her passage and sounding out each meeting of their skin. Each slap of their hips caused a splash of wetness to dribble from her quim, engulfing his length in sticky fluid and lubricating him further to continue his thrusting. If she had any interest in granting him permission to cum, it was not to come yet as only strained gasps and moans left her purple lips.

The clone did a dutiful job of keeping the original LeBlanc’s ass wide open as Jarvan ploughed her hard into the bed. Squeaks and creaks rang out from the Prince’s bedframe, sweat dribbling down the Lightshield heir’s torso. His mark was not far off, though still the permission had not been given. She felt his cock twitch within her. Her head was brought up to turn around and look at him. Her purple hair was a mess and a sly smile lay on her lips.

‘A Demacian Prince…waiting…on the mark of a Noxian sorceress,’ she breathed in between thrusts. ‘The field surely has changed. Do your worst, Jarvan.’ She lay back and began to meet his thrusts with renewed vigor, the supple flesh of her wide ass rippling with how powerful his attack was. Finally speaking the words he longed for, he felt the feeling in his cock tighten to a peak, before releasing all that he had deep into her womb. Months of pent up sexual desire rushed to the forefront of the young prince’s mind, as her inner walls milked him for all that he had.

Basking in the velvet softness of her core once his seed had been passed, Jarvan regretfully slipped from inside her, a dribble of cum seeping from her reddened lips onto his bedsheets. LeBlanc let out a contented sigh, before her pretty face warped into a deadly grin.

‘Perfect.’

The clone clicked her fingers and then disappeared into a puff of incandescent arcane smoke.

Jarvan felt his hands bound into ethereal chains. He struggled, unsure of this was some new layer of sexual play she had in mind, or if now his life lay at stake. LeBlanc sat up, seemingly comfortably enjoying his warmth that sat in her core. A delicate hand rested around her folds, the excess cum tested by her fingertips.

‘A worthy specimen. My my, this will serve me well in creating a stable vessel. I was expecting it to be trickier than that to persuade you into offering me a sample of your seed. In the end, you’re all the same aren’t you? Once the clothes hit the floor, no matter who stands naked before you, the instincts taken over. Stay here, boy.’

The chains grew tighter, a redness spreading around his wrists and ankles. He struggled but found he could not compete with the otherworldly magic that bound him.

‘What is the meaning of this?!’ he said, his tone steeped in betrayal more than anger. She smiled.

‘You thought that I, the matron of the Black Rose and renowned Noxian sorceress would have any interest in you and your pathetic cock? How would I ever get off from being fucked by a filthy Demacian noble playing at the throne? If you believed any of that, you’re more of a fool than the dirty peasants that worship you.’

‘Noxus will answer for this. Your wicked schemes will not go unanswered, witch,’ he said through gritted teeth as she made her way closer to him, until her painted lips lay only a meagre distance from his hot breath. Her tongue traced her lips as she studied the grim expression on his handsome features.

‘I believe the time for talk has come to an end. I will not hear any more from you.’ With a click of her fingers, his mouth was gagged with more illusive golden magic. He squirmed and whined in his bonds.

‘That’s better. Now, a souvenir of our night,’ she said. Another snap of her fingers set the sheets of his bed into a dance. They warped and weaved briefly in the air before wrapping tightly around Jarvan’s form. Round and round the sheets wrapped until the prince was contained in a silken cocoon.

‘Perfect,’ she said, ‘and now that I have a sample of you to work with, I can do exactly as I wish.’ With one final click of her slender fingers, Jarvan’s eyes shut and his head dropped to his chin. She studied his stillness, as if all the life had left him. ‘The first piece in silencing a nation.’

With Jarvan subdued on the bed and fallen into a dreamless stunned slumber, LeBlanc smiled at her work, before strutting across the room and into Jarvan’s personal bathroom. Still naked with her purple hair a mess from Jarvan’s rough attempts at pleasing her, LeBlanc gazed into the mirror. She briefly toyed with her pale tits, idly rolling her nipples and massaging the flesh. Her fingers slipped down to her navel, dipping again into her folds, finding evidence of Jarvan’s climax still within her.

Her golden eyes drifted closed. She reached into her magical reserve at the back of her enlightened mind, mixing the arcane with the seed in her core. She felt her muscles grow rigid as they began to shift and warp with the soul fibre her magic was emulating. She forced her mind to relax as the transformation took over. Illusions were easy, physical reproductions were not.

Her stature grew, lost its femininity and taut muscle began to weave its way around the sinews of her slender arms. Her height increased and her face became drawn with all the years of toil under the banner of a Demacian monarchy. When she opened her eyes once more, it was not LeBlanc of the Black Rose that looked back, but Jarvan the Fourth, of the noble Lightshield house of Demacia’s elite. A near perfect replica.

When she raised a hand to tussle the black mane on her new body’s head, the vessel moved with her. When she smiled a devilish grin, the vessel joined her.

Dressed in his clothes that littered the bathroom floor, LeBlanc wandered her vessel over to the real man whom she had copied. Asleep and prisoned in his own bedsheets with a gag of ethereal magic over his mouth. A fitting place for him, she decided.

The body was bundled into the grand wardrobe in the room, hidden under layers of clothes and sheets and locked with a key that was then slipped into LeBlanc’s pocket.

When she spoke one final sentence to him, it was not the haughty voice of a sorceress that sounded out, but the righteous tone of a Prince.

‘Now watch as your precious country rots from within.’


End file.
